Well let me just start by saying that for a running blog, this is pretty pathetic. I can’t tell you the last time I posted about running… until today of course.

I have run one 5k, one 10k, one half marathon and two full marathons so far this year. To be honest, I am not happy with that, as I would like to have run many more. My last marathon was at the end of April. It was quickly followed by my biggest work event of the year, The Preppy Awards, a move half way across America, a wedding, 7 weeks of work away from my family back in California, and the death of my grandmother. That brings us to October 15th. Since that marathon on April 27th, I have run 12 times. TWELVE! I can’t even call myself a runner with those numbers! And honestly, I feel like a disgrace.

Here’s the problem. I am scared. I am scared to run. How dumb does that sound?!? What if it hurts or I have to walk? What if someone I know sees me and thinks I run like an idiot? (BTW that wasn’t something I had to worry about in California, because I had absolutely no friends and knew no one.) I’ve been using excuses like I can’t find my fuel belt, or I just took a shower and don’t want to take another one. I have lots of work to do is always one that won’t go away.

I’ve been getting up early to do it this week, and I still haven’t convinced myself to take the plunge. Pathetic. When my grandma was still alive the last few years, she wore a brace because her hip wouldn’t stay in the socket. I always said to myself that I was running because she couldn’t. Now that she is in heaven that doesn’t apply anymore. In California I used to see hummingbirds on my run, and I knew it was my grandpas making sure I got my run done safely. I realize this is probably all hubbub, but it always made me feel better to think about. I don’t think there are any hummingbirds in Hays, so who is going to keep me safe?

Chas and I lost a friend of ours last week. We met him and his wife at Disney World, and I was fortunate enough to get to spend some time with them on subsequent trips to the World. At 37 he was diagnosed with stomach cancer and it took him within 18 months. That is barely older than we are. Jonathan was a wonderful guy, and from what I can tell, I am sure he never met an enemy. What is my point in writing about Jonathan? I am scared to run, and his wife just lost her husband. SERIOUSLY?!? I am a complete pansy.

As I sit here writing this tonight, I had the privilege of watching the Royals sweep the Orioles to make it to the World Series. They are going to win the whole thing. What to know how I know? One of Chas’ best friends, who was also only about 37 to my knowledge, died almost a year ago of Leukemia. The connection? Travis was the biggest Royals fan you have ever met, so it is only fitting that he guide them directly to the World Series and get what he always wanted. After a 29 year drought, they made it to the big show. To come full circle, if after 29 years of not making it to the World Series the Royals can do it, I can run again after a few months break.

I know that I have been writing a lot about death lately, but in times of unrest I believe we learn the most about ourselves. I’m not really a pansy, and I know that. For pete’s sake! I ran 48.6 miles over the course of 4 days at the beginning of the year. I’m going to get back out there… tomorrow.