I have a dream to run the Marine Corps Marathon. There, I said it to the world and it scares the hell out of me.
When I served in the Marine Corps more than 30 years ago, we had to run and I hated it. Dreaded having to do it, couldn't wait to stop, and was relieved to get out and be free of that necessary evil.
A couple of years later while in college, I ran a 5K to impress a runner I dated. Though I did get a sense of accomplishment and thrill out of finishing the race, I didn't enjoy running any better than I had years earlier.
Throughout the years, I've thought wistfully of my pre-Title IX school days when I loved to run, feeling the wind at my face, loving the freedom I felt, and living for the kick at the end. Periodically I'd try running again but I lacked the motivation to keep me going. Even the moto fun run at the Denver WMA Convention last year didn't give me the drive to do it (though there is nothing quite like running in formation with a DI calling cadence!).
Until now.
I'm rocking off the 'life stresser' chart with all that has happened in the last two years, but life is short and time is ticking.
