Rosey State of Mind

I ran 12 miles today. Well, let me explain. I ran/walked 12 miles this beautiful, sunny, warm, breezy California afternoon. To say I have a new appreciation for all those who have ever completed a marathon, or even "just" a half marathon (as many runners coin the less intense mileage), would be a flat out lie. See, I am extremely in awe of all those who've crossed that finish line. Never even have safety-pinned a bib or numerically labeled myself, I can simply only imagine the feeling of partaking in this tradition. True, it is on my bucket list. However, I recently discovered it may have moved up in rankings. Thus my double digit stroll. "I feel the need, the need for speed." Maverick, Goose and I are on the same page. Despite my lack of totting medal bling, when I lace up something inside me ignites. I run for many reasons. One of them: to beat myself. Daily. This past week, setting a PR at 3 miles/20:03 minutes. Damn, that felt good. Hence my anxious twitch triggered at the mere thought of 26 point 2 miles. It has been a while since my last post. A really long unintentional pause. Over the course of these past 8 months I've completed tasks not on my bucket list. Topping the charts: 3 days driving solo from Detroit, Michigan to my very own piece of paradise in Orange County, California. Now I am not one to hate. It, like love, is a strong word and should be used sparingly. I H.A.T.E. driving. Getting me through it was the opportunity waiting on the other end: an actual real job. You know, the ones grown-ups have and a college degree used to get you.

As the recent Senior Campaign Manager for a national non-profit, I assist those who are relentlessly fighting for a cure for cancer in raising money and crossing a finish line. My boss, bless her heart, strongly has expressed her feeling that I too earn my keep. It's about time for me to talk the talk and walk the walk. Many things in life are mental. One chooses to be happy, irate, succumbed to drama...another blog, another day. Running is mental. Your mind will give up before your legs do. My mind just wants to go fast. My mind thoroughly enjoys hailing butt. This perfect Sunday afternoon, I spoke to my mind. I told it to just relax, take the time to smell the roses. I've never been the rose type. Hence my inability to slow the f down. I completed my first ever 12 mile outing at under an 9 minute pace. Crap. Time to choose a favorite shade of rose.