Finding the Finish Line

I love to run.  I love to race.  I’ve missed it.  I haven’t raced since May.  That will soon change, I have a busy upcoming schedule. I race the next two weekends.  A three mile run with my friends, my running family – the Mud Mafia.  I’ve missed running with them… My traveling for work, the crazy hours has taken a toll and I look forward to a race with friends. 

The following weekend, I race the Spartan Beast with a group of phenomenal women who I work with, who have run with us, and many I have met just once and a few I have never met.  They are extraordinary and I feel humbled to get to race alongside them.  We’ll come together with the backdrop of an intense 10 – 12 miles and we’ll finish our own races but we’ll celebrate as a team.  In the remaining summer and fall, I will run in Boston, Staten Island, Chicago, Texas, and Las Vegas.  My bib collection grows…



Racing is a privilege.  To anyone who’s toed the line, hear the gun or cannon sound, you know the adrenaline that feeling that comes with the start; the flurry, the frantic scramble that ultimately settles into your own mind.  Running your own race, finding your stride and then stretching beyond it.  The collective struggle shared with the racers beside and behind you.

 
Regardless the distance, there is always one goal, to find the finish line.  The finish is my favorite part.  But not because it’s almost over, but because I now I’ve done it.  I’ve accomplished what I have set out to do.  It’s crazy, with all the races I’ve run I don’t have that many pictures of my finishes. I’ve been told I’m often smiling.  But then a friend posted this picture from a recent race and it made me laugh out loud.  I look in this picture exactly how I feel at the end.  Racing is a part of my life.  It’s something that speaks so deeply to me and makes me grateful.  But, racing is also fun.  I hope I never forget that.  So that girl in the picture, that’s me in the moment.  That's me at the and of a race, finding my finish line.