A milestone for any runner, getting to this number means a lot to me specifically, particularly right now.
After struggling through every step since March due to the illness I had but never really got rid of, reaching 1000 miles seemed out of reach even 2 months ago.
…not all at once. That would be crazy. (Of course there are some–including a-year-ago-me–who would say running even 5 miles sounds crazy.)
I’m mostly just posting about this milestone because ever since I reached 400 miles on my Nike app, I’ve been waiting for 500 so I could sing to myself, “And I would run 500 miles, and I would run 500 more.” But The Proclaimers aside, it’s also pretty cool to think that in a year I’ve gone from thinking 5 miles was insane to insanely preparing for half marathons.
I’m proud of myself. And if I were to have posted on Facebook about this accomplishment yesterday, I’m sure the post would have gotten at least 5 likes. But the post from my friend (and, coincidentally, race buddy) proclaiming he was now in a relationship got over 100. Also, tons of comments expressing congratulations.
Which made me think about what’s really important in life.
So apparently, if you arrive at the gate for a flight less than 15 minutes before the scheduled departure time, the airline can give away your seat.
I fly at least 5 times a year, so I thought I knew all of the rules–both silly and reasonable ones–of the airport. So when I noticed the woman checking IDs at security was taking forever, I kept a close watch on the clock. “As long as I get through security with 15 minutes before the flight, I can still make it, since they close the gate 10 minutes beforehand,” I kept telling myself.
Which would have been true if my last name were Rodriguez, since while I was standing at the gate arguing with the worker that I arrived in time, a man with that last name walked up and boarded the plane because they hadn’t given away his seat.
Sometimes I do things just to see what will happen. Like when I quit my job without another job lined up a few years ago–I wanted to see if I would fumble into ruin or fly into glory. What actually happened was less dramatic than either of those outcomes, which I should have guessed, but I had to try it just to see.
So when I had a terrible cold yesterday–we’re talking the struggling to breathe, unable to sleep because your nose is running constantly, sneezing with a violence you didn’t know you were capable of, and working from home because you don’t want to inflict your disgustingness on the unassuming public type of cold, which many with a better-working immune system than mine would call terribly sick–my instinct was not to run. Read the rest of this entry »
Now that I’m officially training for the Brooklyn Half Marathon, I’m starting to get worried. It’s easy to tell yourself you’re going to do something. It’s not much of a stretch to make a plan to do it. But then actually doing it?
That’s scary.
