On Saturday, I woke up, got dressed, and drove to DC in the pouring rain to run the Cherry Blossom 5K. It was my second race in about 6 months and the first I'd run by myself. It's been a long time since I felt this proud about an accomplishment.
I've been running for a little less than a year. My friends can confirm this has truly become the most annoying part of my personality, but I really do love it. It's been so satisfying to work at it and (very slowly) see the improvements. When I started, I could hardly run for a minute at a time. Comparing that to the 40 minutes that I ran this weekend without stopping makes me immensely proud.
I always have equated getting better at something as that task becoming easier. This has not been the case; the very nature of the activity is that every run is a challenge. Even on the days when I'm feeling my best, I always end the run tired, sweaty, and usually with some aches or pains. Getting better at running has been more about abiding discomfort than ease. Running when I don't want to run. Finding ways to convince myself to push a little harder and a little longer.
It's been a lesson in patience with every stride, and I'm grateful for it.
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