The hardest part was stepping out the front door

Sunday morning I undertook my longest run to date. 9 miles. That distance sounds horrible. Sounds insurmountable even. That's a long way. As I prepped for my run I took care to make sure my shoes were tied just right, took in enough carbohydrates and enough water. I did some good stretching, jumped up and down a few times for good measure. Just as I was ready to set out I opened the door and it was pouring rain. Big fat rain. I looked out the door and thought 'this is going to be miserable and I'm going to freeze'. I even shut the door and looked at Scott pleading for him to let me off the hook. He did not. I opened the door again. It was still raining. It's ALWAYS raining here these days!

Finding something within myself I decided not to be a wimp. I took a step out and began running. Within half a mile the rain had turned to drizzle and I didn't notice it so much any more.

At mile 3 I made sure to have some of my liquid hydration. Get some electrolytes back into my system to get me though the next few miles. At 4.5 I stopped for a quick walk and had a small snack of gummi lifesavers. They gave me just the right amount of sugar to push myself back into running. And then the weirdest thing happened. About mile 7 I caught myself smiling. WTF? Smiling? After running SEVEN miles. I have arrived in crazy town. It's official. I don't know if that was a moment of runners high or if I've really trained my body to just take these distances now or if God in his divine awesomeness decided to cut me some slack and make things a little easier. What ever it was, it was amazing. I hit a nice stride, my legs were not tired, my breathing wasn't labored. Seriously amazing for a girl who just a year ago was struggling to run/walk her first 5k.

The last half mile was hard. It was the second hardest part of my run, just behind stepping out the front door. But I didn't stop and I finished. I ran NINE miles.

If someone had told me a few years ago that it was even possible for me to run this far I would have laughed so hard I would have snorted. I remember when running a full mile wasn't even a possibility. It hurt to run a block. It hurt my ankle, my legs, my lungs. It just plain hurt.

Now I might hurt after a long run, but it fades and it's the good kind of hurt. The kind where you know you're doing good things for your muscles. I haven't felt this way since I was cheering and practicing for hours a day. It's a good feeling.

I'm still pretty certain that once the half marathon is over I will reduce my running. Maybe move it back down to a not so crazy runner persons distance of 3-4 miles at a time. But I will keep running. It's easier to keep this up than to start all over. I'd rather have this achy, tired 'I did a good work out' pain than that horrible 'I think my heart is going to jump out of my chest pain'.

Seriously people, NINE miles. If you know me even just a little bit you know this is kind of insane.