Who cares?

When I started training for this marathon, I had delusions of bloggular grandeur. I fancied myself running long, solitary miles. Miles which would give me insight into the workings of the human body, the human experience, and perhaps, dare I dream, even the universe. And I would convey these insights in blogs that literally shone with brilliance and eloquence. These blogs would be the talk of cyber communities everywhere. My ticker would tick so rapidly that soon, it would barely be able to keep up with the visitors and then their friends who would receive and then pass along the link with email subject lines saying things like "You HAVE to read this blog."  And I would humbly say: it was just some stuff I figured out while I was running.

But I have written nothing. And the insights I get are not insights at all. But rather realizations that often come just a little too late. Like Saturday, when I ran far away from civilzation without any forethought. The realization that day was this: I guess I can go potty behind those pallets on that grass farm....and at least I have some wool gloves with me. 

The truth is this: I am tired. I run often and I run far. And I struggle. And very few people understand what I am doing and why. As well they shouldn't. This is not normal. This is not something most people do. But for some reason, I feel the need to do this. And I have felt the draw of this physical, mental, and emotional test since I saw the first women's Olympic marathon in 1984. I saw little Joanie Benoit running along in the hot LA sun and something in me said "I want to do that." I failed to consider the fact that I lack anything resembling a lean runner's build. I am slow and too often, lazy. But something in me feels the need to do this. So I'm trying. And so far, hanging in there.

Sometimes I feel like Forest Gump. When people ask what I did on any given day, I often want to respond "I was runnin'." And I have a fear that sometime in the next several weeks, I may, like Forest, just stop running. And it won't be at the finish line. But for now, I run. I am tired. And I can't always be trusted to think coherently, make sense when I speak, or stay awake even during stimulating conversations. I may choose to sit when everyone else is standing, and there's a good chance, if there's a party, I may even just choose to miss it. These are all sacrifices I am willing to make right now. And I don't even know why, nor do I care.  And for someone who is usually all about the Why,  this is kind of a big deal. Maybe the insight lies in the fact that I trust this will all make much more sense after the fact, but for now, I'm just too tired to care.