This is the most difficult run I've ever done. I'm repeating the same mileage but this time I have the benefit of experience. I'll know where I am and what's ahead. I pray that my left quad holds strong, and pulling that muscle is my biggest fear this weekend. Fear is not my friend; it isn't a helpful tool in this case.
I'll run alone and finish alone. Maybe a few race organizers will give me a shout when I cross the final mat, but there will be no love or glory. The only warmth in that medal will be generated by my own body heat. Loneliness is not my friend; I accept that life moments can be fulfilling and relished in solitude.
The craggy rocks and insane cliff-like hills bring out the survivor in me. I love this sport because when there are miles of tough terrain to go, there is a sparkle of life inside me that will NOT QUIT. It surprises me every time because I still hold a deep belief that I am a fraud, a quitter, a loser, and I don't belong. My actions prove otherwise when push comes to shove.
You, who told me I was a nobody, and that I would never be anything, were wrong. I believed you. Your words still hurt me.
I am a finisher, a winner, and I belong. I smile at the girl in the mirror. She is me.