I finished my race. I reached my goal of beating my time two years ago as well as raising more money.
Running a race is a lot like life. You have to reach far out of your comfort zone to reach your goal.
There were times in the run when I just wanted to stop and rest. And then someone would hold out a sign from the sidelines that inspired me a little, or the right song would come on, or I'd think of loved ones lost, or the person I want to become, and my eyes would tear up and I'd keep running.
It was pissing rain the entire time. Still, I pulled off my long sleeve jacket and pounded through the puddles and it felt so damn great to be alive. Even when I felt like hell, I felt amazing.
Life is a struggle. I'm not going to lie. A lot of times I want to give up. But when I think of all it has to offer I realize I might as well give it my all and see what happens.
After my race I grabbed a coffee and walked home alone, soaking wet, cold, tired and happy.
While in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't a marathon, it was a huge step for me. I accomplished something.
I woke up the next day in the worst pain of my life. I could hardly walk.
If we're looking at running as a metaphor for life, even the things that bring us the biggest joy can hurt us the most.
But if you let yourself rest, repair, and remember that tomorrow is a new day, you'll be fine.