I am not sorry that I did not BQ. I am happy that I got a taste of what it could be like to finally accomplish that goal. I know that in time, I’ll get it.
It was clear to me, in the time between Chicago and CIM, that my marathon goals are not currently driving me. Jeff and I worked toward me running the best marathon that I could. We both knew full well that my heart was not in the latter part of my training efforts. Because of this, I purposely did not blog about the marathon in the months leading up to race day. I *wanted* you to forget about it.
The best part about CIM weekend was being able to take a mental break from the worry that I am always in. It seems so hypocritical and selfish at this point, but I was at a point were I truly felt beyond help. YaYa’s football season ending on marathon day was the result of my prayers for help.
The moment that I stepped foot in the door, post marathon, the responsibility and worry all came flooding right back. “Wait”, I screamed, “don’t I get a few hours to ease back into this?” The answer was clearly a “No”.
The suitcases said it all; my boys were home, or more accurately, they weren’t. I called BoBo’s cell, but there was no answer. I was just too tired to be dealing with missing children. I hoped that they were at the neighbors, but they weren’t. As it turned out, they were chillin’ behind the local drug store. They were fine (relative term), so I picked them up and brought them home.