I'm down to seven days until the Daddy's Crazy 46-Miler. I feel like I'm ready: my training has gone well, I have my route well thought out, I know what my strategy is for the run. I even got interviewed by the Washington Post Express-- it should be on the newstands next Tuesday, I think. And yet it doesn't feel very real for me yet. When I did this a year and a half ago... it just feels like my life has changed so much since that time. We bought a house and moved from Woodley Park to Glover Park. Sonia started working at the State Department and I started walking Daniel to school in the mornings. The big snow came. I got a big promotion at FEMA. We adopted Sparky.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
My dad died.
I suppose life was just different. And last time, I really wasn't certain it was possible for me to finish the run. This time, I know it's likely I'll finish it. And I'm pretty sure I'll get through it in a lot better shape this time.
One thing that keeps running through my mind is the question Vicky Hallett asked me last week in the interview: "Why are you doing this?" I don't remember my exact answer, but it was something like, "because I have to... I can't imagine not doing this." Even when I told Vicky this, I knew I wasn't fully satisfied with the answer. I wish I had said that I love the feeling of running for hours in the dark by myself. Or that the way I lived my life sixteen years ago, I used to dream about doing things like this but never could have. Or that running a long way, for me, is kind of a celebration of the fact that I'm free to do this kind of thing now.
I did explain that my head clears when I'm out there running. That running is like meditating for me, and that when I'm having a good day, the monkeys in my head stop chattering for a while. I didn't tell her that it's like a long prayer for me; it is. I wish I could explain that better. But it certainly is true, and it's a big reason for my running.
Anyway, seven days to go. And really, I can't wait to get out there and start running.