What Now?

In the month or so since the half marathon, I have been asked time and time again which race I'm going to do next. And the answer is, I'm really not sure.

I've been feeling a little lost since I got back from Disney. I had been focusing on this race for so long, that I hadn't really thought about what would come after it. And I'm still not sure what will. I'm not sure if I'll run another race. After all, what could compare? Will I go back to Disney next year for the race? Don't know. Will it ruin the magic of the first time?

So I'm currently in search of my next adventure. Who knows what I'll come up with. I'll keep you posted.

Letting Go

Oh, favorite sweatshirt how I miss thee.

When I was packing for the race, one of the things I kept reminding myself to bring was a sweatshirt I would not be sad to part with. The race instructions, and those who had previously run the race, had implicitly said to bring an old sweatshirt that could be worn in the chilly morning and tossed aside along the race route. Those sweatshirts would be collected and donated.

But I forgot. Oh, I brought a sweatshirt all right. I brought my absolute favorite, comfiest, had it the longest time sweatshirt. You could say it's the closest thing I have to a blankie. It showed it's age--broken zipper, missing drawstrings, frayed cuffs. But man was it comfy and warm.

And now it's gone...forever. You see, I couldn't not wear a sweatshirt the morning of the race. It was cold. And I hate to be cold. But then the sun came up and it got kind of warm. (Imagine that, it's Florida.) So I made the difficult decision to let it go somewhere around mile 4. I just couldn't see myself carrying it for another 9 miles or tying it around my tutu.

It wasn't easy. I actually stopped on the side of the road before handing it off to the volunteer. She looked at me like I was nuts. But it was time to move on. In fact, letting go of that sweatshirt seemed like such a metaphor for so many challenges I've faced since I purchased it so many years ago.

I've had to learn to let go of the anger over my MS --still working on this one--over the questions as to why me, over the challenges this disease presents and so many other things. But I'm learning that sometimes you just have to let go of some things -- no matter how comfortable and comforting they are -- and move forward. There is no other choice. After all, that's how we grow, isn't it? So, I guess that only means one thing. I'll just have to find a new favorite sweatshirt. Shopping trip anyone?

It Is Done

Ready to run

I had intended on posting the whole time I was in Disney for the race but, unfortunately, I got caught up in the excitement surrounding the event and failed.

Well .... I did it. 13.1 miles. I'm still in shock.

On the other side of the race, I will tell you it was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. You know, one of those experiences that when people ask you to sum up your life in milestones you turn to like your wedding, birth of children, etc. Yeah, one of those kind of moments.

The halfway marker with my prince,
um, princess

Going into the race I still had my doubts. Had I trained enough? Would my legs hold up? Could I overcome the fatigue?

Make it to the castle, I kept telling myself. And then I made it to the castle. Make it to the halfway point, I said. And I did. Sometimes I ran (more often than I thought I could) other times I walked. And that was O.K. Before I knew it I was nearing the finish line. Then there it was. I crossed--hand in hand with my princess hubby and with a 14+ minute mile. And then I cried.

After the race, when I had gotten something to eat (other than the healthy stuff with no taste that they give you along the race route) and taken a nap (what's up with a 5:45 a.m. starting time?), I finally had time to absorb what I had done. Wow. Did I really do that? Me? Wow. And I cried again.

A week out from my accomplishment, I have gone back and read the posts in this blog and rewalked my journey. To say I'm proud of myself is an understatement. It has changed me in ways I can not explain. And it has changed the way I see things--and people. I am 100 percent certain I could not have, would not have done this without the love and support of so many people. I felt that as I was running. And saying thank you seems so totally inadequate. But thank you anyway to all those who cheered me on, encouraged me, helped me get to the finish line. This is your victory, too.

Now, I'm contemplating my next challenge. This one will be hard to top. Will I return next year? I'm not sure. I don't know if it would be the same. So maybe I'll look for something new. One thing I do know, though, is next time I will be checking the mileage for any adventure before I throw my hat in the ring.