My eyes opened wide as a mix of emotions swept over me like a powerful wave over a tiny schooner in rough waters. I only did this as a way to motivate myself in the hopes that my fiance and I could do this together. But there I sat staring at the screen of my iPhone reading the congratulatory message letting me know I was selected to participate in the 2014 New York City half-marathon. I was fearful of what was to come, not the intense months of preparation but the wrath I would endure as a result of my fiance not gaining entry. Everything was in slow motion as if I was suffering from the repercussions of a bomb that rattled my head. The words off her tongue were distant, muffled and echoed but eventually snapped me back to reality. The sad reality that made me realize that now I really had to go through with this. I was destined to participate in the NYC half-marathon and embarrass myself while crossing the finish line, or entering medical tent at the starting line.
So I’m going to be embarking on a journey that is no where like the one to the center of the universe and is most certainly not an allegory for god as many people speculate with “Moby Dick”. This journey is an inward one where I must overcome my inner 7-year old desperately pleading with me to consider how much better the couch feels than the bitter chill January brings with it. I am confident I will cross that finish line and prove myself wrong. I would like to say I have people who doubt me so I can prove them wrong, but really why are those people in your life then?