Then I think about the fact that I'm about to run 8 miles today. Uhm, what? That's FAR. And despite the fact that I know it's going to hurt, and I know I'm going to be slow, and I know it doesn't feel natural to me, I'm still going to do it. And sometimes that makes me feel really strong all on its own. I want to give up on this half-marathon and chalk it up to not being a runner. I used to quit things all the time. But I'm not quitting this. I have a goal, and I'm going to finish. I want that to be enough, but it doesn't feel like enough yet. Maybe the sense of accomplishment will feel better on race day, when I can cross that finish line and remember every single day of hard work that went into it, and know that I did something that seemed impossible to do. But right now, I just feel frustrated.
I don't want to be a complainer. I'm thankful I can run, and work, and that I have really dear friends who enjoy the same things. So just in this little space, for a few minutes, I'm going to feel disappointed. And when I put this down, I'll go conquer the day with no more complaints. I will be happy and thankful and I'll probably feel pretty proud after this long run.
So now I'm done. Let's do this, Sunday.
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