On Saturday I ran to Delaware. It sounds like a Forrest Gump moment, but it’s honestly only 3 miles down the road.  Yet, as I crossed the state line my inner voice spoke, “Well, since I made it this far I might as well keep going.”  And so I did. I figured, just up the hill to the end of the next town.

 While running through the town, a young man who appeared to be wholly out of shape was eating an ice cream cone and heading toward me on the sidewalk. I moved to the bike lane to allow him to pass and he yelled angrily, “You’re doing it wrong!”  I have no idea if he was talking to me or someone unseen behind me but my inner voice retorted, “At least I’m doing it!”

 I came to the end of the town and thought just down this next hill.  On my way down hill, “I’m sexy and I know it” started playing. I chuckled and quickened my pace, checking the clock and thinking, “I’ve got time,” so I started the climb the next hill.

 On my way up, a group of riders politely formed a single file line while I moved to the grass to afford them more space.  We passed one another with nods of appreciation and approval. A silent “keep going” and an unspoken “you’re almost there” pushed me on.

 I reached the top and saw Winterthur ahead in the not so far distance. “Holy Crap!” I thought!  That’s awesome!  Might as well get there!  And so I did…

 I turned around at the light to start the run back thinking about where I was just one year ago:

 I was (ahem) training for the Broad Street 10 miler. I was still nursing K-Mad, had just started running in March and had yet to make it past 3 miles on the treadmill let alone run on actual pavement. Yes, I was once athletic, but not really so much anymore, though still in relatively good shape-ish.

About 2 weeks before the race I was convinced it wasn’t gonna happen so I pretty much stopped “training.”

The night before the race, my parents insisted that Mr. TheKing and I go out and they’ll watch the kids. We had an incredible time!  A great dinner, amazing drinks, followed by glow bowling and fantabulous bowling alley wine! It was ridiculous!  By the time we got home, well after midnight, there was no way I was racing.

A few hours later K-Mad woke up to eat. I gave her a bottle, (knowing there was no way I should feed her,) and looked at the clock. “Well, I should shower if I’m doing this,” I thought. And so I did.

I slept the whole way to the race. We got there and Joe gave me a $20 just in case I needed to “cab it” to the finish line.  It was a joke, with more than a hint of “but seriously” undertone.

The race started and I was doing well. Avie and I were chatting and it was time for me to slow down and for her to take off. Then I ran with Abbie & Joe for a bit and slowed some more.

I was angrivated when bands played so loudly that I couldn’t hear my own music or when my shoes stuck to pavement from Gatorade other runners had tossed, but kept going.

I came around City Hall and other runners were cutting me off to high five the crowd. I thought, “What the? I’m running here!  Do you know that guy or something?”  A few minutes later I realized that I knew him too. It was Ed Rendell.  I kept going.

I got choked up when I saw fathers standing on the side with their kids and signs that read “Go Mommy” and it pushed me to go. So I kept going.

Then I passed a sign meant for encouragement that read, “4 miles down!”  Wait…what? What did that say? 4 miles down?!?!?  I still have 6 to go!!!! I’m not even HALF WAY?!?!?!  {It should be noted that in subsequent years I realized that the lady holding the sign was standing 2 miles south of where she should have been.}

There was a cacophony of thoughts noisily running through my head:

“chug, chug, chug, puff, puff, puff, I think I can, I think I can”

“So I dug right down to the bottom of my soul, to see what I had inside…”

“Well, I ran this far, I might as well keep going”

“Just do it”

And so I did…2 hours and 4 minutes.

I could not move for a few days following the race and was definitely dehydrated, but I did it…

The run back home from Wintethur on Saturday was just plain fun.  My music was loud and my rhythm was in step. The climbs were welcomed as I blasted up them and my legs seemed to “regenerate”  heading down.

 It was a 9 mile round trip trek full of oncoming traffic, 2 quaint towns, and a plethora of hills that I cannot even guess on their incline or grade.

 I got home and checked my time: 1:40, averaging 11 minute miles, a whole minute less per mile than last year.  Not too shabby.  Bring it on Broad Street! Let’s do this!

PS: I use the Charity Miles app when I run because its just something nice to do for others while I’m doing for myself. You can use it for walking, running or biking and has a variety of charities to choose from each time you use it. Check it out here: http://www.charitymiles.org/