Weekends = long runs as I try to get ready to kick this 13.1 in the rear. Last week was busy and the long run had to get squeezed into a very hectic Saturday morning.
We woke up early. Jim headed to his dad's to build a garden shed and my niece and I headed to town to get donuts ... a sleepover tradition. On our way to the Dunkin spot, we drove past a woman I frequently see walking on weekday mornings. This day, she was wearing a sky blue track suit and had a little ankle-biter dog with her.
We pick up the donuts, Miss O. eats three on the way back to the in-laws and we share the remaining dozen and a half with the building crew. I get her all set up with a laptop, paper and crayons and hit the road. About an hour and a half later, I'm in the home stretch and I see the same sky blue track suit walking toward me.
Now, at this point, it's been more than two hours since I saw her the first time. And it's at a point in my run where I'm looking for ANY reason to quit. My brain is trying to convince the rest of me that my knees hurt too much or my lungs hurt too much or I'm too hot or too thirsty or whatever.
But the sky blue track suit just keeps coming at me.
Surely she can't have been walking for more than two hours, can she?
As I get closer, I can see how old she is. And she's old. 70 if she's a day.
All of a sudden, I'm not so tired.
"Good morning!" I cry out as I approach her. "Didn't I see you two hours ago when I was on my way to town?" I ask.
"Yes! I was walking my dog!" she responds.
"How far do you go?" I inquire as I pull up alongside of her.
"I have a six-mile route," she divulges.
"Good for you! Have a great day!" I shout as I cruise past.
Six miles. The 70+-year-old woman walks six miles on Saturdays. Maybe every day. And 44-year-old me is bitching about running eight miles? Really?
The last half-mile suddenly wasn't so hard.
The morale of the story? Lots of people way worse-off than you do a hell of a lot more because they want to and because it's important to them. If you're ever thinking you're too tired or too sore or too "insert your favorite excuse here", think of the old lady in the sky blue track suit. If she can do it, you can do it.
You'd hate for her to kick your ass, right?
Epilogue: I'm recounting this story to a table of family at my mom's surprise bday party that afternoon. Nurse Jackie, a single mom who's training for her first marathon right now says, "Oh yeah. Just wait until you finish your 13.1 and look around and see the 80-year-old blind man with one leg who finishes 10 steps in front of you. It feels like a great accomplishment on one hand and then you get slapped back to reality."
Your BODY is capable of many, many amazing things. If your freaking BRAIN would quit talking you out of them.
You can do whatever you set your mind to, friends.
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