I ran a marathon.  This week.

27.2 bloody miles.

Hanson Training is making me feel strong.  12 pounds down and daily running has become a salve to me.

At the beginning of the week, I was slayed by a personal decision that went awry…love that goes away unexplained or with non-acceptance…and I knew that I had a buttload of miles to run every. single. day.

I ran 6.2, then 3, 5, 5, 4, and finally yesterday did speedwork at an avg pace of 10:14.  This is not me.

And today.  Today I get to rest.  Washing all of the clothes that I will wear again starting tomorrow at the beginning of my 6 day a week workout, leading up to San Luis Obispo Marathon.

I’m raising money.  I’m paying bills.  I’m in court and I’m working the best I can on the 12 steps that I love so much.  I’m raising teenagers.  My work started Wednesday.

I just really want to sit the hell down.

It appears that pain is a great motivator for me.  Since the beginning of this horrific week, I ran a PR, lost more weight, nailed all of my splits…I ran crying and I ran laughing.  It hasn’t been pretty.   Crying myself to sleep.  Waking up with an emotional hangover.  I used words like “devastated” and “crushed” in my vocabulary this week.  Amazing friends stood by me even when I made really questionable decisions.

The Lasso Of Truth.  Wonder Woman’s own lie detector.  I’ve been in that this week.  Compelled to tell the truth to myself no matter what.  Committed to telling the truth…MY truth to those I love and the ones who love me back.

It’s been a rough week.  I want to sleep.  I want to wake up and find that my world is still in tact.

But instead.  I run.

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