Runner's Mind

So I got on the scale last night before bed and it said 133.1 after a whole day of eating. I was estatic! You know what I did yesterday, different than what I have been doing everyday since about.... oh, January ish?

I ran a long run. I ran 6.2 miles in 60 minutes.

I got my new Runners World magazine yesterday and felt the itch to run again. To really run. Not just dabble with 3 milers here and there... but run for distance, run for time. I decided I'd head to the gym and run for 60 minutes. I told myself I didn't care how far or how fast, but I would not stop running for 60 minutes. And then my adreneline kicked in, endorphins flew and I started going faster, faster and faster.

I miss running. I miss the way my head feels, the way my heart feels. I absolutly love the way I think about how far I have come, things I can do. I truly feel empowered when I run. Because it is hard for me. Because once upon a time I was the kid who cried on track day in elementary, middle and junior high. Because I was the chubby girl who could not run, at all, let alone fast. I was humiliated. I wanted to die those days.

I am a new person, not because of the way I look on the outside, but because of the goals I have achieved. Because of the hard things I have accomplished. Because of the way I feel inside, I am a new person, a beautiful person.

I watched an inspiring video yesterday about a dad who ran 2 marathons and the iron man triathalon with his son. His son who can not move on his own. That father pushed his son in a wheel chair, swam with a boat strapped behind him, and cycled with a seat in front of him. I was inspired. I was speechless. As I ran I thought to myself, that we as living, able bodied people have no excuse for not pushing out bodies to do the hard things in life. I remember when I was pregnant with my first baby and literally could do nothing more than walk a short distance. I couldn't waite to run again. I couldn't waite to become a runner. I think about the people who will never be capable of having a child, of watching their little one go to preschool, or a school dance, or get married. Who am I to take advantage of the fact that I can. To feel entitled to not eat healthy to not exercise... which I know increases my odds of getting cancer, or heart disease, or whatever else is out there.

I owe it to these people who have passed before me. Who can not walk, who can not run. I owe it to them to push my body and to cease the moment of being capable of raising my family and being the best person I can be, the most beautiful person I can be... inside and out.