Seeing the Light ...?

I don't know if I'm actually seeing the light at the end of the what-on-earth-did-I-catch tunnel because it's actually there or because I just want to see it. And, depending on the hour, I'm not sure if I really do yet want to see it. 'Know what I mean? It kind of reminds me of when I gave birth to PC#2 ... there I was zonked out in the hospital when the doctor came in all cheery asking, "So, ready to go home?!" I was all, "Umm ... no ..." I remember being there in that bed thinking, "Hmm ... there was a day I had the will to get up and run around and do stuff. I think that day was pretty recent. But, it seems so very far away. That must have been someone else."

I also remember feeling right on the edge of realizing that the person I recalled who used to get up and move about the world was, in fact, me, but I still wasn't quite ready to get back in the game. That's me today. Still down, but not as far out. I'm so so so hoping to get this much farther behind me by Sunday as I aim to join the Family Run Time! I'll at least be able to walk it by then. It'll be nice to participate in some fresh-air breathing either way!

Speaking of being on the edge, I was struck by a great quote posted on the Run the Edge Facebook page. It reflects a sentiment I think about often and in which want to wrap all new runners. It speaks well for itself (and comes from a great source!!) but I took the libery to highlight what really spoke to me. I hope at least one part of it speaks to you.

I'll see you on the check-in tomorrow; enjoy in the meantime:

I have made many mistakes as a new runner. I have stopped and started my running program at least half a dozen times. I have tethered my ego to my mileage and felt humiliated when I’ve come up short. I have attempted speeds that were too fast because I thought that’s how fast real runners go. But through it all, I have given my body permission to do what it can, to let its slow improvements be enough to make me proud – no matter how many runners pass me. Recently, after a run, I stood before the full-length mirror in my bedroom. I admired my body, despite the blemishes that time has left behind. I admired the sweat that clung to my collarbone like a badge of honor. And I admired my legs, which are capable of carrying me farther than I ever imagined.

- Reshma Memon Yaqub Runner's World Magazine