Red

Things in the jungle have been, well, a jungle. I’ve been lax about Project Blog It for many weeks now, but am trying to get back to it. As the year wraps up today, I hope everyone can look back with satisfaction, and ahead with optimism.

Project Blog It


On 14 Dec. 2008 I ran a marathon. I ran this marathon in a bright, new, red shirt bought specifically for the event. I’ve never been a fan of the color red (unlike Minerva). I own very few things that are red. In fact, I can only think of two red items that I own, and one of those items is my red marathon shirt.

So I’m left asking myself why I chose a red shirt to run in. I don’t have a clear answer, but perhaps I needed something different to mark a new achievement. Something different to mark something I had never done before. The marathon was a project I wanted to do. It was my own goal, and as such, was much more mental than physical (if you can believe that). And as a mental project, it was also internal. My choice of a red shirt, something I would likely never have worn, was external, a visible marker of something new in me.

I began 2008 by running my first distance race. Within the first three weeks of the new year, I hit a milestone birthday, which I marked with a half marathon. As the year progressed, I continued running, working towards new distance goals, and I also worked toward new personal goals of being more of the person I really want to be. I close the year having completed a marathon, and I did it in a red shirt.

In preparing for the marathon, I trained for six months. I began running in the sweltering Texas summer, and I finished running in the windy, damp, and cold Texas winter. I rose every day at 5:00 AM to run in the dark during the week. On Saturday mornings I rose at 4:30 AM to meet my running team for longer and longer training runs. I attended training seminars. I spent money on high-tech running gear. I monitored and logged my times, distances, and splits. I watched my carb/protein ratios, and obsessed about my hydration. I read running magazines. These are activities I continue pursuing even post-marathon.

I was the nerdy and hopelessly uncoordinated kid who couldn’t do a lay-up with a basketball, the kid who couldn’t hit a baseball with a bat, the kid who couldn’t throw a football with a spiral. Rather than participate in sports that I had no natural talent for, I preferred to spend time with books.

Now, in my forties, after months of training, sore muscles, and blackened toes, training that I continue even having achieved my goal, after all of that, is it possible that I’m actually an athlete?



Please check the blogs listed on the right for companion pieces to this week's prompt.

Next week's prompt: Cold