Saturday, April 30, 2011
Exactly one year ago today, I ran my first half marathon. The expected April showers upgraded to a torrential downpour on all of us Flying Pig runners. Instead of attending prom as an enthusiastic sophomore, I drug myself out of bed to run, while my friends were just getting back in from their magical evenings. After about the 8th mile, I cried out to my running parter and my mom, "I've never ran this far in my life!" But I didn't stop. If you're a runner, it's easy to understand the description of this "wall" we all hit. It's a "make-it or break it" moment. The reward after pushing yourself beyond this mental limitation is immeasurable. My legs carried me the farthest I've ever traveled. I ran the entire way, through the heavy rain, blisters, and pains. I feel now that I took my legs for granted that morning, but I was so proud of myself for not letting any of those obstacles stop me. I just ran and ran and ran and ran. Eventually, I forgot that I was running. It was just this flowing stampede; I was surrounded by unstoppable athletes. Running became a natural necessity for me. It served as a time of solitude and stress relief. I felt invincible and strong traveling mile after mile. Now it's that time of year again, where the weather teases you and pulls you outside. Spring is so refreshing! It's a reminder that indecisive Ohio weather can actually accommodate to our happiness once in a while. The sunshine seems to open up our hearts and optimistic smiles that the cold winters freeze over. It's days like this where I'd do anything to lace up my shoes and run. Of course I'd whine and complain during those long and overheating practices, but I haven't ran in months. I wish I had the option of laziness... Now I have no choice. My body can't support the stress running brings on it. It's no longer a game of "mind over matter", for the matter is so unknown and powerful that I have no decision to make for myself. The body which supported me in everyday life stopped doing so. I was forced to withdraw out of my sports and exercise. I miss being a part of a running team and I miss the competition of the race, as well. A year later, it's prom night again. My beautiful friends came over to show me all their preparations for tonight. They looked absolutely radiant! I suppose as a teenage girl, who also helped to plan this prom night, should feel sorry that she can't attend. My disappointment is expected. But as I sit here surrounded by spring, I'm not sorry I'm missing out on the glamour and excitement; I would just do anything to have my legs support me they way they did again.