I realized today while at the gym working off my hang over (yes, you CAN sweat out the alcohol) that it's been exactly one week since I ran my first half marathon. One week and another 13 miles. The marathon was probably one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. About 2 miles into it the adrenaline began to wear off and it began to dawn on me I had 11 more miles to go. Eleven. More. Miles. The thought pounded into my brain like my feet on the Cape Cod concrete and suddenly my calves didn't feel quite so strong, my back didn't keep quite so straight, and my music didn't seem to carry the right beat. My breathing got a little louder, a little more stressed. And all the people around me began to look more muscular. They would finish. I didn't stand a chance. I wanted to give up, make the right and head down the 10k track instead of the left to the half marathon. Maybe I would tell my mom I actually did the half marathon, she wouldn't know the differe...
I like geography best because mountains & rivers know the secret: Pay no attention to boundaries.