I’m too tired.  Its too hot.  Its too cold.  Its too early.  Its too late.  The kids were too fussy.  The baby was too messy.  The laundry was too dirty.  There’s no time.  There’s not enough time.  I can’t find my favorite t-shirt.  I might have a cold.  I might get swine flu.  I have too much homework.  The dog ate my homework.  Its Thursday.  …  and…and..and…

…the weather is warming up and I just saw my reflection in the world’s meanest mirror that my in-laws keep at the end of their hallway.  Its one of those monster mirrors, floor to almost ceiling.  It hides nothing…

yeah...the mirror reminds me...

It isn’t that I think I’m excessively over-weight.  I may be, but I’m fairly okay with my body image issues.  What gets me is the chick who looks back at me.  The chick who’s hair is dark from winter life indoors.  The girl who’s eyes do not sparkle from physical exertion.  That post-run glow has been replaced with…well…everything else.

One of my favorite things about finishing a really good run is sweaty fore-arms.  I know, its gross, but bear with me…  you know exactly what I’m talking about.  After a run, your fore head is all salty and sweat puddles in your eyebrows.  Your breathing was rapid, but now your lungs have that “all clean” feeling and your legs are just happy.  And then you happen to look at your arm, the one without the watch.  Its shiny.  You catch little Cullen-like rainbows in the sunlight.  Your arm confirms what your sweat-soaked shirt tried to tell you: you worked hard and it was good.  

I need to run again for my own sanity.  I need to run long, alone, and hard.  I don’t like how I’ve been sluggish and grouchy lately…plus, my favorite jeans are a little too snug…

I’d like to sign up for another marathon, even though I swore I’d never do it again after the first one I finished.  There is a voice inside of me that chirps on sunny days, “You should sign up.  Its fun!  If you can avoid another ‘special’ porta-potty incident next race, you’ll even set a PR!  Sign up! Sign up!  Another t-shirt!”

...my finisher's medal...

…I wonder if I’ll have to come up with an excuse not to sign up…or come up with an excuse to sign up early…


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