On possibility.

I’ve been lax in writing this week because, well, I’ve been running. Specifically, I’ve been structuring my workouts according to UNR Cross Country coach, Kirk Elias’ methods. I drove down and met with him this week, on the track. It brought back memories, that round red circle which is approximately 400 m around. He was there, coaching his collegiate athletes and managed to squeeze me in between the strides his athletes did across the frozen surface of the football field. 

Among many things, we decided that I should enter the Chicago Marathon-- and attempt to run a 2:47 there to qualify for the Olympic Trials. Writing that-- or saying so-- sounds downright crazy. I mean, I don’t LOOK particularly like a runner. I have no sponsors. And right now, I’m not particularly “fast.” But I recall sitting down in front of my computer on a night three years ago that was not so much different than this one, thinking: could I even FINISH a marathon? I’d just entered the Lake Tahoe Marathon-- and then, I’d had doubts my legs would carry me 26.2 miles. 

But you know what, I trained hard and I won. 

And then I ran Boston. 

And in 2008, CIM which was a great race because I achieved not only a PR, but also because I proved it to myself that I wasn’t the average age-grouper-- not when I put my mind to it, anyway. 

And so maybe 2:47 isn’t so crazy. Or maybe it is, and that’s the point. Dreams are supposed to be a bit out of reach, otherwise there would be no point in dreaming of them. 

I have to admit: I’m excited. I want to see what I can do, given the time and the training. For the first time in a year, there is possibility in the air. I wake up in the morning and I want to see the dawn, I want to feel the crisp air on my face... I want to see where this passion takes me. 

And that, even if it amounts to nothing tangible, is worth the effort.