I was NEVER a runner. I was a swimmer. For almost all my life. Wasn't all that great. But, wasn't all that bad. I just picked it back up this summer. After MANY years away. It felt good to be back. I felt at home.
But, a runner? Pfff. That's silly. Freshman year in college my friends and I would run (jog) here and there to try to keep off the Freshman 15. It worked (thank God). Until I turned 21 and life became, well, more beer friendly. After college I would run a mile here or there and think I was "running". Riiiiiight. It wasn't until MANY years later (3 years ago) that a co-worker came into work wearing a medal. I asked her what it was. She said it was from a half marathon she ran the day before. Well, I wanted one. So, she said, "come run the Chicago Rock n Roll Half Marathon in 3 months" Hell, I can run two miles, how hard would 13.1 be? So, I half-assed trained (not) with a goal of just finishing. Finish I did. Not pretty. But, I did it. I was proud of myself. I saw possibility.
So, I continued the run. Kind of. Kept it light. Nothing much. But, I ran. Until last year. When my kick ass rockin' 102.5 year old grandma got sick (she lived on her own but I took care of her needs). Really sick. She was dying. She was supposed to live forever. Anybody who knew me knew this. Believed this. She didn't see the Cubs win the World Series. She surely had a few more years in her. But, sadly she didn't. After being a vibrant living person, she spent 3 long months in and out of the hospital and nursing home. It was hard for me to fathom this was the end. I worked all day, spent my evenings with her. Then came home at 9, 10, 11 pm and ran. And ran. And ran. Ran from the stress. Ran to be alone, away from everybody depending on ME. Ran. I ran further. I ran faster. With everything going on, when I was on the run I felt great. The world felt great. Life was great. All that was not true. But, in those moments they were.Then I found Daily Mile . And the people of Daily Mile. My life hasn't been the same since. :D