I’ll Give You Something to Cry About

“I’ll give you something to cry about” was a phrase that instantly takes me back to childhood. As an adult it makes me laugh at its sheer ridiculousness. If I’m already crying, why do I need another reason to cry?! lol. Well that’s exactly what came to mind before my long run Saturday. I had decided that I was going to take my longest run to date outside. OUTSIDE. Have I told ya’ll how I feel about the great outdoors? Yeah, well “great” isn’t exactly how I would describe it. Nonetheless it needed to be done. No half marathon has been run on a treadmill in central air. A shame, I know! Immediately after my decision, panic set in. Where am I going to run? What if I die? What if I don’t die, but are too tired to make it back? Can an uber pick me up from off the side of the road? What if I fail? This one….. this one sent me over the edge. Just like that, I was balling like a baby. I can’t do this. I really can’t do this. All my progress up to now has been a fluke. A sham. Sheer luck! I can’t do this.

Can you possibly imagine how foolish I felt crying putting on my running leggings and socks? Here I am this grown woman crying while getting dressed. Not because a man broke my heart. Not because I was in extreme pain. Not because I was just dealt some horrible news. I was crying about running! Running by choice, mind you. Lol. A choice I made weeks ago because it’s a goal I’ve yet to achieve. I had to look in the mirror and laugh, then I cried some more. I drank my preworkout…. and cried. Despite my tears I googled a route that was the mileage I needed. Sure, it was all the way across town but in my current state of hot mess, I would take any comfort I could get! So I trekked it over to Mount Pleasant, parked my car, rubbed my eyes (yep, I cried most of the drive over), and said a prayer. If I die, at least my car is in a familiar place and my absence on Monday will force them to call the authorities. (Dramatic maybe, but tell me I’m wrong!)

The first mile felt good. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks I had NINE more. What in THE world was I thinking?! I saw my life flash before my eyes…. have I mentioned how dramatic this day was for me?!…….. I made a deal with myself. Time and pace didn’t matter, just don’t die! DEAL! I tapped into my inner Forrest Gump and I was runnnnningggg. Over the bridge, past the Sullivan’s Island sign, past Fort Moultrie, to the end of a dead end road and back again. It was on the turnaround that it all started to hit me. I was halfway finished. I kept saying to myself, “You are doing this girl! Just keep breathing, you know, so you don’t die.” I made it over the bridge. (It should be noted that the drawbridge went up the moment I crossed. Whooo, I really did almost die. Not that they would have lifted it with me on it. I would have died from fright. Bridges scare the bejesus out of me!) Anyway, I kept running. I ran all the way to Pitt Street Bridge when I was alerted that my 10 miles were complete.

I felt like crying. I didn’t though. I was all cried out. I have never been more proud. I almost talked myself out of my achievement. I almost didn’t finish because I was too scared to start. As I walked my cool down lap, I looked up and noticed the beauty around me. I thought about the foolishness of the morning and instantly could hear my mother’s voice (clearly with God’s cue), “I’ll give you something to cry about”.

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