Keep Moving Forward

On Sunday I did something I never dreamed I was crazy enough to actually do:  I ran a marathon.  And finished it with all my body parts (more or less) in tact.  Yes, folks, I rolled out of bed at 4 a.m., hopped on a school bus with my mentor Michael and a bunch of other crazy people, and then ran 26.2 miles through the wine country of Napa Valley, California.  Wow.  What a beautiful race!  The weather was perfect.  The course was slightly rolling.  And the vineyards were breathtaking as the sun came up.

But don't get me wrong.  It wasn't just a stroll in the park.  The awe of the vineyards wore off around mile 20.  I started to yearn for some ticks, mountain lions, rattle snakes, or MUD, just for variety.  But I kept cruising.  I was feeling great.  Michael had really prepared me.  Then, around mile 24, my toe started to hurt.  Yes, folks, my toe.  My feet and hands were swollen, and my arms, legs, feet, and hands were tingling from dehydration (something I hadn't expected), which was distracting but not debilitating.  I had a wicked cramp through my right side abdominal muscles that made it hard to breathe for a few miles, but I'd had cramps just as bad in training and knew it would pass.  But it was that cursed toe and the blister under the toenail that made me finally stop, dead in my tracks at Mile 25 and say, "Michael, I'm done.  I've had it."  He looked at me as I walked and said, "You have one mile left.  It's going to hurt just as bad to walk as it is to run.  So RUN."

And I did.  I finished (with a pretty impressive--or so I'm told--first marathon time of 4:15).  I got the finishers medal.  And the free massage.  And the free food.  And all the kudos.  It was great.  It was so worth it.  Yeah, so I'm going to lose the toenail.  It'll grow back.

The craziest part is, even as I crossed the finish line and people descended on me to ask if I needed medical assistance, I said to Michael.  "I want to do it again.  Just not today."  And I still feel that way.

Later, while I was finally getting to do some wine tasting, I was struck by how something as small as a blister on one toe almost made me quit.  And I thought about writing and how often something as small as one person's opinion almost made me throw in the towel for good and walk away.  How one rejection letter made me want to hang up my keyboard and never look back.  But I didn't (well, not yet anyway!).

What I'm trying to say is:  Keep writing.  Keep submitting.  Keep dreaming.

Because when you cross that finish line (and you will) it will be so worth it.

Happy writing (and running)!