Operation: Supergirl
Mission Accomplished
I was reluctant to get out of bed this morning, but I knew that I needed to up my marathon training. Last week, a crazy and wonderful crush of social engagements kept me away from my regular training–and while I was still able to enjoy my long run on Saturday, I needed to work in more time for the smaller, utility runs.
That’s why my alarm went off at 5 am. That’s why I got out of bed, fired up the iPod, and took off in that soft gray early morning light to log a 5k.
And that’s why I found myself sprawled out on the sidewalk just around the corner from my house–hands bleeding, shoulder raw, and knees a mess I haven’t seen on my body since probably the time I was first learning how to ride a bike.
The good news is that I was close to home when I decided to trip and launch myself through the air. I limped home, winced my way through a shower, and bandaged myself up before heading into work early.
The sad news–and I won’t necessarily say bad here–is I realized a reality about being an independent person. There was no one there to pick me up, dust me off, and tell me that I was going to be OK. I just had to do it myself. I didn’t realize until after that while this hurt–and still hurts an awful lot–the thought never even crossed my mind to cry. I didn’t have any reason to.
Oh, and morning running can suck it.
Back in November, I offered myself a challenge:
I believe in giving myself challenges. As such, I decided that I would end my tenure as a 28-year-old on a high note so as to challenge my 29-year-old self to bring the A game. And how much higher can you get than the 103rd floor of the Whatchu Talkin Bout Willis (nee Sears) Tower? … OK, 29. You’d better figure out how to top the top of the world. You have 365 days to do it, so get to it.
Dear Self:
I think I figured out how to do it. Stay tuned.
See you on the flip side–quite literally.
V
