So today a pack of psychos are going to take a chance and run 26.2 miles on the Boardwalk of Virginia beach. I should have been there with them, ready to go for my third marathon, but I’m here writing, researching and ruminating.
I’m not mad at myself. This winter was a beast and my new commute threw my entire routine into a whack-a-doo spiral. It was tough to gauge priorities, but I opted to set the running to the side and focus on family, work and writing.
I don’t regret that. I’ve got three pieces accepted to journals I’ve had in my sights for a while, have been enjoying my new job and have had a few wonderful times with the family that I may have missed out on if I was over-stressing about running an extra five miles.
Sometimes it works to take a step back and get a little perspective.
Does that mean I’m not going to run another marathon?
Fuck no. I’ll be signing up for the Steamtown Marathon in Scranton, PA this Fall. Come June, I’ll be training and working on the second revision of my novel. The extra daylight should let me not worry so much about
I read somewhere that opportunity always shows up disguised as hard work. Guess I better get back to busting my ass.