I feel like I should explain a bit about the crazy busy-ness of my life these days. Someone asked me last week how it was possible to be a single woman without children and never seem to have available time. I have no real answer for that question.
This fullness has been exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time. I've found comraderie that I never had in my marriage and have enjoyed the freedom to plan my time as I see fit. That means that I don't have to consider anyone else's interests or feelings. I've been busy sucking up this marrow in my life.
I'll be honest. I'm not sure what I've been doing lately is interesting enough to other people to warrant a post here. Do you really want to hear about my classroom? Or dates? Or my daily naps in the early evening? Or the night I sat in front of the turned off t.v. and stared while my thoughts ran rampant?
Somewhere in the thoughts swarming in my head, I lost track of something I really wanted to share. I hoped I'd have the pictures by now to show you, but they're not here, and I really want to tell you all about it.
I finished my first 10K race two weeks ago. I posted about it on Facebook and Twitter, but there's not really room there to tell about how amazing the experience was for me. When I first decided to run the race, I set a goal of 1 hour and 30 minutes. I trained hard. I injured myself in the process. I didn't run at all for the week or two leading up to the event.
I started at the finish line praying that I could just finish the race, and I thoroughly expected to be dead last.
It was tough. I felt overweight and out of shape and wished like everything that I had signed up for the 5K. Somewhere between miles 3 and 4 I considered cheating and turning around. But I didn't. I walked and ran and pushed myself along the winding trails of Del Oro Park in Clearwater. I felt like throwing up and giving up and wondered why I didn't at least wear sunglasses. By the end of mile 4, I hoped I would be able to at least finish...not in last place. I was even willing to accept a time of 1 hour and 40 minutes.
I crossed the finish line. Not in last place. My official time was 1 hour and 16 minutes, but I was actually about two minutes late starting the race. Do the math. The shocking part was that my pace was a 12:17 mile. (In my heyday I ran a 7:54 mile...would love to get back to that.) Was I ever shocked. Not only did I beat my goal by 15 minutes, but that was a decent pace for someone who just started running 4 months ago.
I haven't done any form of exercise since then but will be back on track starting next week. I need a break from all the running, but want to still keep up with it once a week. I signed up for three local races as part of that plan. In November I'll start training for the next big race...the Gasparilla 15K.
I never dreamed that I would do something like this, but I really do like the pace of running. My thoughts unwind as I pound the pavement. I'm finding myself finding myself. I don't listen to music. I go with the flow. It really is my sanity saver these days.
My cousin asked me if I ran races for a cause, and my response was that I just wanted to see if I could do them. Her response summed it up beautifully. "Well, that's cause enough."
There are plenty of other things brewing around here, and I'll share them as I can. For now I'm looking forward to my first weekend home and the promise of laughter, good conversation, and hopefully a few more foot massages during football games.
This fullness has been exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time. I've found comraderie that I never had in my marriage and have enjoyed the freedom to plan my time as I see fit. That means that I don't have to consider anyone else's interests or feelings. I've been busy sucking up this marrow in my life.
I'll be honest. I'm not sure what I've been doing lately is interesting enough to other people to warrant a post here. Do you really want to hear about my classroom? Or dates? Or my daily naps in the early evening? Or the night I sat in front of the turned off t.v. and stared while my thoughts ran rampant?
Somewhere in the thoughts swarming in my head, I lost track of something I really wanted to share. I hoped I'd have the pictures by now to show you, but they're not here, and I really want to tell you all about it.
I finished my first 10K race two weeks ago. I posted about it on Facebook and Twitter, but there's not really room there to tell about how amazing the experience was for me. When I first decided to run the race, I set a goal of 1 hour and 30 minutes. I trained hard. I injured myself in the process. I didn't run at all for the week or two leading up to the event.
I started at the finish line praying that I could just finish the race, and I thoroughly expected to be dead last.
It was tough. I felt overweight and out of shape and wished like everything that I had signed up for the 5K. Somewhere between miles 3 and 4 I considered cheating and turning around. But I didn't. I walked and ran and pushed myself along the winding trails of Del Oro Park in Clearwater. I felt like throwing up and giving up and wondered why I didn't at least wear sunglasses. By the end of mile 4, I hoped I would be able to at least finish...not in last place. I was even willing to accept a time of 1 hour and 40 minutes.
I crossed the finish line. Not in last place. My official time was 1 hour and 16 minutes, but I was actually about two minutes late starting the race. Do the math. The shocking part was that my pace was a 12:17 mile. (In my heyday I ran a 7:54 mile...would love to get back to that.) Was I ever shocked. Not only did I beat my goal by 15 minutes, but that was a decent pace for someone who just started running 4 months ago.
I haven't done any form of exercise since then but will be back on track starting next week. I need a break from all the running, but want to still keep up with it once a week. I signed up for three local races as part of that plan. In November I'll start training for the next big race...the Gasparilla 15K.
I never dreamed that I would do something like this, but I really do like the pace of running. My thoughts unwind as I pound the pavement. I'm finding myself finding myself. I don't listen to music. I go with the flow. It really is my sanity saver these days.
My cousin asked me if I ran races for a cause, and my response was that I just wanted to see if I could do them. Her response summed it up beautifully. "Well, that's cause enough."
There are plenty of other things brewing around here, and I'll share them as I can. For now I'm looking forward to my first weekend home and the promise of laughter, good conversation, and hopefully a few more foot massages during football games.
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