Matt's been traveling a lot lately, and was gone for two full weeks before my race. My training was haphazard at best.
My "long" weekend runs were 3 miles, five, another five (because I couldn't quite manage six), nine (back and forth on a perfectly flat levee), then nothing. Then more nothing. I ran three miles the day before out of remorse and was lucky I didn't pull anything.
Not exactly the ideal situation. But I had paid good cash money to get up at oh-dark-thirty to sweat near 5000 people I didn't know. Even if I had trained more it could have rained or been swelteringly hot. I could have crashed my car on the drive over. I could have tripped on a pothole and fractured my patella after parking, without even eyeing the starting line.
As it happens, it was a beautiful fall day. I walked a bit around mile 10 and developed an impressive 3" long blister on my foot but I finished hard and got my race shirt. Not a single damn person cares that I finished 20 minutes slower this year than I did in 2013.
I showed up.
Life is messy. You can end up a single parent. You can bomb the basics. But you show up and suck the marrow and embrace the ugly cow medal because this is all there ever will be. Our existence here is precious and short, no matter how well planned, and it would be a great tragedy if perfection cudgeled the good.
I am, of course, just talking about running. Far be it from me to postulate about other issues.
Whew. Good stuff here. xoxo
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