I was so tired last night I could barely keep my eyes open.  I woke this morning at 6:45, wide awake, then stayed in bed for hours and drifted in and out of consciousness.  I did not want to get up.  I battled another round of nausea yesterday afternoon, but it went away after some water and a distracting conversation, so I’m hoping it’s nothing.

Along with most of the others in my area, I’m ready for some warmer weather and consistent sunshine.  March bores me.  It’s sort of a Limbo month – not really Winter, but certainly not yet Spring.  It’s one of those months when it takes hours to dress in the morning because none of my clothes seem quite right, and I just kind of get through it in anticipation of what’s to come.
I’m excited for happy hours, long summer nights, cute cotton dresses, fresh vegetables from my neighbor’s farms, and just not freezing my ass off in general. 
Today’s race-pace run was nothing short of hellish in 20mph winds.  Hated it.  I felt like I was crawling home on the return, but it turns out I hit my target and beat my best training run time for the distance (8 miles) by a couple of seconds.  Crazy shit.
The whole time I was out there, I just kept thinking how I would never be able to do that for 26 miles.  Hell, today felt like 26 miles.  I’m going to have to figure out how to relax and get my head in the game, or I’m not going to make it.  The wind totally freaks me out and I can’t breathe.
I just kept telling myself to keep going and that I might just surprise myself like I have in the past, and sure enough, I did.  I guess that’s part of the training process, and when I feel like giving up in the race, I just have to go back to these training runs in my head.      
Kinda sounds like Life, huh?  The older I get – the more experiences I have – the more references I have to go back to when I’m in an uncomfortable place.  I can tell myself I got through it before, I can do it again.  Just keep going.  Maybe there’s a fireman at the finish line with a Tiffany’s necklace for me.  Or something way better than that – like… a cute guy with great biceps I can squeeze.  Yeah… that thought could keep me going for at least 26 miles, I think.

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