I find myself sitting here in my uncomfortable preggo state daydreaming about running. For anyone that knows me well (including myself) this is not normal behavior for me. I don't think I have EVER daydreamed about exercise. Naps, yes. Eating, yes. Actually, I usually daydream about eating while I am running. It really passes the miles to plan what I am going to eat as soon as I am done running. While training for the half-marathon this summer I was lucky enough to have running partners that love to talk about food as much as I do. Usually about 3 miles into our long weekend runs we would start talking culinary delights and it would come up again and again for the next 2 hours.
And then I lose track of what I was talking about. Daydreaming about running.
I just can't quite identify the point at which I became a runner. Was is when I decided to do that first 5k or was further down the line when I decided that I could do a half-marathon? I choose to believe it happened somewhere in the middle, on a sunny, cold Central Oregon day while I pushed a sleeping Sara along the Dry Canyon Trail and found myself not counting the miles anymore.
Whenever it happened, I am so thankful that I am just stubborn enough to commit to something and refuse to allow myself to fail. Running changed my life. That sounds cliche but I cannot think of any other way to describe it. When I run, I feel strong and powerful. I feel like I can accomplish things that others doubt I can do. I still don't kow if my dad believes I was actually running when I crossed that finish line but I know I was and when I think about that moment, I cry. I was more proud of myself than I have ever been.
So when this baby comes in the spring I will be anxiously awaiting that moment that my doctor says, "You're free to run." Run I will. And I will probably daydream about eating with every step.
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