I wanted to run my first half-marathon in less than two hours. My time: 1:59:06.
You would think that I crossed the finish line jumping for joy, or at least doing an approximation of that on wobbly legs. But even before I got to the box of bananas at the end of the finishers' chute, I didn't feel elated or even proud, just productive. I had completed a task, and there were plenty more to tackle: finding my friends, finding my bag, finding a place to grab brunch.
I had trained hard for the race throughout the summer, during the mad rush of planning my wedding and between the cross-country flights home that preceded my father's death from pancreatic cancer later that season. Running gave me a reprieve from worrying, but for me, it was the opposite of meditation. Instead of focusing on my breath, I looked at my GPS watch constantly, willing the mileage to fly by. I thought about how good it would feel to be done so IRead More »from Lost in the Rush: How to Enjoy Every Workout