I’ve had romantic daydreams of being a runner. I’d just slip on some great shoes, whip my hair into a bouncy ponytail and chirp “I’m heading out for a run!” while jogging off into the sunshine and gentle breezes. It’s all very Dove soap commercial-like. With a splash of Nike “Just Do It” from the 90‘s. But today it is serious. Very Serious. My husband who has been a runner on and off has been back on running for the past few years. And, after toying with the idea of a Disney half-marathon for the past two years he has thrown down the gauntlet and is going to do it. This November. At the Food & Wine Festival.
As soon as he said it, I asked if he was going solo or if we were going as a family. And he said “either” and I decided I’m going with him... and we’ll leave the kids at home. They won’t appreciate the food & wine anyway. And what if I were a runner too? This is my chance. If they came I’d have to stay with them while he raced--this is his dream after all. But, what if I were a runner too. And I got a medal and crossed the finish line and accomplished something BIG. And scary.
I have until March to decide if I can do it with a relay partner. Half of a half. I think I might be crazy... or maybe I'm a runner.
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