The thing is, I have so much to say- but no way to say it. Which is a tad bit frustrating.
I ran a race last Saturday- an 11 mile race climbing up 3500' and then back down.
It was originally a 28 mile race (which I wasn't going to run per lack of preparation), but because of snow safety issues, it was dramatically cut down to 11.
With 11 miles, fear of death was no longer a factor. So I ran it.
Trudging through miles of snow.
Running alongside ultra-runners.
I finally realized that I can.
I can do hard things- and I will always, always, love it when I'm done.
Comparison never gets me anywhere.
An incredible breakthrough moment materialized when I realized that I am who I've wanted to become for so long.
Progress has not stopped, but satisfaction is grasped and held.
For so long I was afraid to be defined by what I do. [run]
For fear that one day it wouldn't be there and I would be lost.
But now I embrace it! It's made me who I am. And even if my legs fall off, I'll still consider myself a runner.
I don't care if that's all you know about me.
Because my Heavenly Father and I know that I have been given this gift and desire for a reason.
Many reasons actually.
My name is Jamie, and I love to run.