On my birthday this year, my boss asked me if I wanted to run a leg of the Vermont City Marathon.  “Why would I do that?” I asked. “Because I’m organizing a team, and it will be fun,” he said. In my slightly drunken stooper, I tried recalling the furthest I’d run since Donovan was born.  I think my mind came to the number 2.  Yup, that sounded right.  2 miles.  “Ok, I’ll do it, but I got dibs on the shortest leg.  How long is the shortest leg?”  3.10 miles.  Ok, if I push myself, I can do that by Memorial Day weekend.

And I did. 

I ended up running my 3 miles in 35 minutes, which is about 5 minutes faster than expected.  I underestimated the power of the cheers heard along my route… people standing outside their houses, people all over downtown, just to watch and cheer runners going by.  “Good job!” “You can do it!” “Keep it up!”  That plus the tunes bumpin’ in my headphones was enough to get me to the end.  Afterwards, I felt I really could’ve run a longer leg. 

Did I train for this?  Um, not really.  Since the end of March, I would try to run about 2-3 miles a couple times a week.  Until May.  Then I practically didn’t run at all until the week before the race.  I was nervous.  Thought I’d take forever, or that I might slip and fall, end up with a broken ankle, or a leg cramp.  But I was energized and looking forward to the rest of the day to see how our 5 person relay team ended.

We were all tired and exhausted, but our team finished in 5 hrs 10 min.  Would I ever run a full marathon?  Hell no.  A half?  Maybe.  If I keep up with my running and get into better shape, maybe by next May I’ll have my act together enough to accomplish that.  And if I don’t, oh well.  As our team motto says, “Honey badger don’t care!”

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