I admitted to the Kisa five little words. I’mStartingToLoseIt. I wasn’t talking about the toenail. That finally fell off two days ago. I was talking about my state of mind. Losing the grip on well-being. With that, the admittance of those five confessional words, I gave myself permission to run again. Last night in the basement. True: it was only 2.06 and I took it s.l.o.w…as in 22 minutes slow. I had my broken toe and all the little aches since the mara to consider. The bigger concern was I think New Guinea was in shock. I haven’t been on a treadmill in what? nine weeks? Something like that. What happens when you neglect a lover for nine weeks? I waited for the retaliation but none came. No motor malfunction, no data distress. The tread ran smoothly below my feet as if I had never left.
But! But. But, now what? What exactly am I running for? Yes, my sanity needs this. But, what else? I’ve always said the run has to have purpose (with the exception of St.Pats because that’s just me being selfish). Where am I going now that Vegas has been said and done? In a word it came to me. In a word – redemption. May 2006 I ran my first half marathon. It sukced. It has always bothered me that I walked part of it. It’s time for me to go back to the Bay and rerun Alton. And not walk a single step of it. And PR it. Wait. Before you say it: it doesn’t matter that I’ve since run nine other half maras, all without walking a single step. You should know my mantra by now: not one step walked. Those other 13.1 distances, they weren’t Alton. It’s time to go back to where it all started. It’s time to redeem myself for the run that has haunted me for nearly ten years.