A few days after I posted my goal to run a marathon in all fifty states, I ran into a young friend as I was leaving the gym. Peg had read my post, and was pretty much in awe, which I kind of enjoyed. It’s not too often I meet someone who looks up to me. Granted, one reason is because I’m short. But also, I don’t live the most exciting life: I work all day, hit the gym most nights, pay my bills on time, complain a lot, have a glass of wine every now and then, gain weight, lose weight, gain the weight back, complain some more. You get the picture.
Peg gushed, complimented, hugged. The attention was extravagant, and I loved every second. Then she said, “So, what’s your plan?”
I shrugged, a little taken aback. “Not sure. I guess I’ll do a couple of marathons a year until I’m done? I haven’t totally thought it out.” I adjusted the shoulder strap of my gym bag, a hint to her that the conversation was over.
She nodded but stayed put, waiting for more. Shit was getting real. She had expectations.
“Oh. I didn’t realize this was an essay test.” I expected her to grin. She didn’t.
“My goal is to finish before I die. So, I’ve got some time, right?”
She nodded and continued to wait.
“Maybe I can work up to doing three marathons a year.” I faltered. I was disappointing my first and only fan. “It’s only one more than two. So that could happen. Couldn’t it?”
To my surprise, Peg did not seem one iota less awed by the fact that I hadn't totally thought things through. She squealed out some comment about me being superhuman. There was more gushing, more complimenting, and too many more hugs.
I couldn’t get out of that gym fast enough. My run-until-I-die strategy obviously needed some tweaking. If I was serious about running a marathon in all fifty states, I needed a real plan that included a race calendar, map, budget. A good training method and a sensible diet wouldn’t hurt either. What was I getting myself into?
Instead of heading straight home, I detoured to the grocery store and bought some brownie mix. First things first.
In bed that night, I contemplated the soothing effect that chocolate, flour, sugar, and butter have on my stressed-out brain. There's nothing better than a couple of spoonfuls of brownie batter to help me think. Now I had a full belly and a carbohydrate high. Even better, I had a plan.
Pleased to see you are posting, again; I check periodically. Since we last saw each other, much has changed - I'm now, "Jett" but being "Miss Jess" in your classroom will always be a pleasant memory. I didn't become a teacher; however, I've been working at a short-term residential center for youth, for nearly 4 years.
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