Run...

Those who have known me for a long time know that once upon a time, I was a runner. My freshman year in college I was goofing around in the first snow of the season in Grand Rapids, Michigan and broke my ankle. I wish I could say it was a simple fracture, but the truth was that I literally shattered the joint and couldn't even walk for longer than I can even believe. For years my ankle was weak and even with physical therapy, I was left with seriously curtailed range of motion. I really, in some aspects, have never been the same.

At the time of the accident, I was a pretty physically active person. I enjoyed running, riding my bike and skiing. After the accident, all of these things were very painful to me and usually ended up in further injury due to compensating for my less than perfect ankle. I really haven't run in any serious way since then. I have missed it all these years. When I think of who I am, part of who I think I am is a runner. I still think I am a runner. Today for a short time, I was a runner.

I am always afraid of breaking into a run because of the pain that it frequently involves. I have been busy with school and more out of shape than ever lately. Today at the gym, I was warmed up and walking at a good speed and with a steep incline and when I lowered the incline and upped the speed, I kind of thought, "Why not?" What was the worst thing that would happen. I might fall. I might not be able to handle the pace. The worst thing that did happen was that I immediately noticed the extra weight I have been carrying.

In a heartbeat, or a few hundred, I felt like a runner again. I immediately found my stride and my old running posture felt like a friend. I like the feeling of pushing myself further than I think I can go. I like crawling up into the far recesses of my brain to find that extra bit of strength to get me through. I am very good at moving through pain. I realized today that I can run again.

Two seconds after this realization, my dream of one day running a marathon also came springing back to life. I thought of Bubs' sad experience this past year, but I also thought of another friend's positive experience a few years ago. At 43, I am not ready to give up on my long held dream. I'm a girl who likes a project and a challenge. It's what I live for.

So here's the deal. I really want to run a marathon. It's early in the season and I do think I could be ready by next fall. The thought of seriously being a runner again makes me giddy. Keep in mind that I ran today in walking shoes and those suckers are heavy! I can do this. I want to do this. I'm not sure yet how I am going to balance this with school when it starts again, but I'm tired of being unhealthy and I desperately miss running. I'm putting this out there so that people will check in with me and make sure I'm not slacking. I want to bring back that part of who I am. I want to hear that gun go off. I want to run.