The day I decided to run a marathon?

I really didn't think I would get sucked in. Honestly. But I've had this feeling before... and it's actually not quite as profound as one might imagine. I can compare it to the day I decided I was leaving San Diego and moving back to Kansas: Sunday afternoon, landing at the San Diego-Lindbergh Field Airport, zeroed in on the rooftops on Banker's Hill... the thought merely crossed my mind. But for some reason, I knew it was much more than just a thought... something more concrete than another wave of homesickness. I was moving home. There it is. It's happening. And it did. I'll spare the details of the weeks & months to follow, but basically this life changing decision all began with that brief moment while sitting in a window seat on a Southwest flight from San Francisco.

And there's the common thread... I was in San Francisco the day I decided I was going to run a marathon. Watching (and helping) my boyfriend, Erik, train for the past 6 months wasn't what convinced me. All it took was the moment I felt the energy at the start line.

And at first it almost felt like a curse. I've always been satisfied with running how I do running. The casual 5k, maybe picking up the pace if I felt like it... running to keep in shape and (sometimes) compete was all I ever needed. What did I have to prove by running a marathon? Ha. Nothing. But there it is. It's happening. And it will.