This morning Hubby and I are leaving to drive down to Anaheim for my half-marathon. I feel a little sick to my stomach and have a bit of a headache, which I am hoping I can attribute to staying up late getting ready and getting up early to get going. I am really excited about the race, about seeing one of my best friends from high school, about going to Disneyland for a day. But mostly about the race. I have come so far from the girl last year who was scared to try to run a 5k. That girl thought she couldn't do things. That girl was afraid that people would know she wasn't a runner and shoo her away. That girl wasn't able to be proud of herself. But this girl knows that she can finish a half-marathon. This girl doesn't care that she is slow, that she will probably be in the last part of the group to finish - she knows that she is still a runner. She put in months of training even when she didn't want to, despite the stress going on in her everyday life. And this girl is going to be extremely proud of herself for doing all of it.
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