running a marathon

Don’t you just hate listening to people talk about their dreams? The ones they have at night. My mom would make us stop telling her about them. Stop, stop, holding up her hands.

I dreamt once that I could run, that I enjoyed running. I jumped over a stump, and sprang along the path, and felt free. Free to go where I wanted when I wanted.

I just watched all of these inspiring videos of people running marathons; even a woman with cystic fibrosis. Click here to watch some of the videos.

Brent thinks that finishing a marathon is less impressive these days because anyone can do it. You don't have to be skinny, or look fit. You can take as long as you want to. Hell, you can even walk.

I have completed a mini-marathon. Maureen and I trained for it years ago, in college. Every morning she would pick me up, calling my dorm room to tell me to come down.

"Why are you calling me so early?"
"Get the hell up, you know why I am calling, we train EVERY DAY."
"Oh right."

Every day I was surprised she would show up. EVERY DAY.

For the last year I have been riding my bike to work most days, and working out with Sam twice a week. Yesterday, we climbed the stairwell, me carrying 15 pound weights in both hands, whining a lot. Sometimes, he makes me race him to the top…but only two flights or so. And he gives me a head start, he is only 23 for goodness sake. If I lose, I have to race him again. I have only lost once. Yesterday, he said I was super fast. Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t…but maybe I could run a marathon. I definitely felt free as I bounded up the stairs yesterday.