One does arguably stupid things when recovering from surgery. Namely, I do stupid things when recovering from surgery. After my first I partied my ass off, and after my most recent I made another idiotic, albeit vastly different decision: I signed up for a marathon.
When people ask if it will be my first I tell them, “Yes. First and only.” “Oh, is it a bucketlist type thing?” they question. “No, not really,” I respond. I then proceed to tell the tale of how I got myself into this little six-month, bone-pounding, tendon-tearing predicament. It goes a little something like this. Four days after surgery I was beyond bored, tired of an endless blur of daytime TV, coloring books (yes, coloring books), and Lonely Planet Costa Rica, which I never did manage to finish but made it there and back having an amazing time. I turned to my dear old friend facebook to pass the time. Glancing at the endless feed of friend content a post grabbed my attention: “I just registered for the Nike Women’s Marathon.” Huh, how about that? I guess we can blame our friend word-of-mouth marketing for the outcome of this story.
As I sat at my mom’s computer I quickly ran a pro/con analysis through my head. Pro: I’m bored as hell and this will be something badass to do. Con: It’s in San Francisco, those hills will murder me. Pro: the race is in October, that gives me a sun-filled summer with long days to train. Con: I hate running. I decide to click on the link to find out it’s a raffle. I don’t even have to commit to running this race to make myself feel better – glorious. I won’t get selected and I’ll at least feel great about myself for attempting to run. Hmm, half or full? F*&% it, no one is impressed witha half marathon, let’s go big. Full it is. I’m playing running roulette even though I hate gambling.
I enter my registration information and credit card payment. Apparently Nike wants to ensure you’re committed before the raffle. Bastards. I continue with the registration. “In one word finish this sentence….I run to be_______.”
Dominating. Badass. Because I survived. (darn that’s three words), carefree. Seemed appropriate at the time but in retrospect I should have put “Alive.” I’m running because I can. I’m running 26.2 miles because for the sixth time in seven years I’ve survived cancer. I run to prove to myself that I can do something extraordinary. I run because my desires and aspirations have no bounds. I run because I put marathon on my mini-bucket list this year. I run because I’m young, my body can handle it, and if not now, when? I run to be alive. Also, the Tiffany’s necklace at the finish line isn’t a bad incentive either. 😉
Needless to say, my name got pulled and I committed to training for the past five months. There marathon is this weekend. See you on Sunday morning, 26.2.