Three years ago this month I moved to New York and set about the task of becoming a "runner," for I had to do something active that was free. The track down the street from my Brooklyn-cool-priced apartment beckoned, and even though I'd always claimed to hate running and believed I wasn't built for it, I was willing to try. Every day I went and every day I ran another lap before I had to slow to a walk. I couldn't even run a mile at first.
Next month I'll be running my first half-marathon. Yes, I'm going to run the whole thing, and I'm going to do it in under 2 hours. In 3, 5, and 7 mile runs over the past few years I've now proven to myself that my imaginary limits are pointless.
To some people this sounds small. Many have run half-marathons and marathons and iron men races, and so on. It can seem like a kind of every day occurrence in some circles. But so can many victories. Paying all your bills without struggling, not having a kid throw up on you for a day, scoring a new account at work, having all the laundry done, hiring a new employee, having a flattering article written about you, selling out a venue.
Acknowledge the moments in which you push past an "I can't" or "I'll never," whatever they may be.
I hope this first half-marathon turns into many more to come. One of my long-term goals is to run two a year in different locations. All of them will be exciting, and all of them will be accomplishments, but none as big as the first one. The one that proves once again that the limit does not exist.
Come cheer me on at the half!