Here is a picture of my running shoes. Now the soles and laces look super pink in this picture, but trust me that it does not do them justice. They are actually an electric corral. Not quite pink or orange, but very bright. Anyway. The husb got me these super cute shoes when I decided I would.... train for a half-marathon. We decided the only way to guarantee that I would really do it was to go ahead, take the plunge, and sign up for a specific half-marathon. So on February 24th come rain or snow, I will be in Ft. Worth running the Cowtown. I am only completely scared to death. We also have a deal that, upon my completion of the half, I get a quarter-zip running top (this assumes that I ran the entirety of the race). This excites me.
So, if you know me you may know that I have trained for a half-marathon before. Why did I stop, you ask? I blame Cal. He started running with me and can we just say that we are less than ideal running partners. His six foot tall self against my five foot one inch is too much of a contrast. I have to take two steps for his one, so for him to get a decent workout I basically have to spring. It's awful. Slowly but surely, I got burned out. We have decided that we will not be doing any training together that is further than 2 miles for the future just to protect my self-esteem and my determination.
I often times get done with a run and want to go to Facebook to tell the world how many miles I was able to survive. On the one hand, I don't want to boast so I don't post it. On the other hand, I don't think it accurately portrays what it's like. So, I wanted to give you an idea of what running is like for me.
Yesterday I had the distinct
So running is hard, running is tough, but I will not be defeated because God is faithful. It's all God, y'all. Seriously.