Sunday, February 10, 2013
In the Running . . .
Here's an enlarged cropped photo my husband took with his cellphone as I ran past him about 300 metres from the Finish Line of the Vancouver First Half Marathon this morning.
I was surfing a lovely wave of endorphins, the often elusive Runner's High, and I was delighted to see him there, a complete surprise.
Don't I look happy?!
Annoyed to report that when I first saw this photo, I critiqued my hair, my teeth, and my weight. I wouldn't do that with any other woman who looked so happy about accomplishing a goal, however minor. I am trying to undo the patterning that makes me so hard on my visual self -- it's a lifelong project, though, and there are only so many years left.
That said, I was amused to note, this morning as I got ready to join 2000 other runners, all but my sister strangers to me, that only running gets me out in a crowd without make-up, without my hair styled. I feel good enough about my running self -- strong, disciplined, kinda proud in a modest way, if I may -- that I don't feel I need to "pretty up" -- And I don't see much sense in applying products that will get in the way of my skin breathing while I'm working out. Which rather makes me think that I'm at least a few steps toward self acceptance. . . .
Whatever. I have now completed my 8th Half Marathon, the last I'll do before I'm 60, my last big run before the Vancouver Marathon in May. . . . My time wasn't a personal best, but it was quite decent (probably about 2:04 once adjusted times are posted) considering my recent illness as well as having been awake most of Friday night while my Mom chatted and sang and sobbed all through the night (pain meds recently boosted -- I suspect the adjustment exacerbated the encroaching dementia, to say nothing of the narcotic effect. . . .)
Marking happily now, with an evening in my granddaughter's company (and her parents & my guy).