I genuinely wonder how my friends can tolerate me. I have literally said things like, "I wanted to run 21 miles today but I only got in 18. I'm going to have to make up the mileage later. I probably shouldn't eat this cream horn." In their heads, they are probably thinking, "Shut the fuck up Tracy. You burned 8000 calories today, EAT THE DAMN CREAM HORN YOU SKINNY BITCH; NO ONE LIKES YOU."
And I have literally complained about my cellulite. To my friends. All of whom are larger and heavier than me and weigh more than they wish they did and struggle to find time to do any amount of exercise. I super suck sometimes. It's like listening to Paris Hilton complain about money problems or how hard it is to be beautiful. NO ONE LIKES YOU EITHER PARIS HILTON.
But the reason for this post is (and please don't throw your meal-replacement bars at me, even though I probably deserve it), to tell you that I am training for my third marathon! Woooo, yeah, pay attention to me! All the attention! Revel in my not-really-an-accomplishment-because-it-really-doesn't-matter-in-any-feasible-way! ATTENTIONZ!
In all seriousness though, I was in a walker at age 23 after a high-speed car accident that broke a lot of bones, punctured a lung, and left me on an oxygen tank for a week and in physical therapy to walk. Due to how extensive my lung injury was (the trauma surgeon actually used the word "exploded" to describe what happened to it), I was still finding myself out of breath and winded from even short walks, years after the accident. I was tired of feeling that way. I was tired of barely being able to catch my breath after taking groceries up the stairs. I was tired of counting my steps to make sure I didn't overdo it. I was tired of still feeling broken.
At 30, with a knee brace on, I ran my first 5K. It took me 6 months of training to do it, and I hurt doing it, but it was a pivotal moment for me. Even with my brace (I had really hoped I could run the race without it), it was 27 minutes of adrenaline and magic and sweat and pain and joy. And I chase that feeling now. I chase it for miles and hours. And I can't remember the last time I was winded from anything other than running. I no longer need a knee brace for anything. I can't even tell my lung ever ruptured, or that I broke my pelvis. And I know I'm not the fastest runner (I'm very middle-of-the-pack), but I'm out there, and I'm running, after I could barely walk. I know what it's like to be bedridden, to be unable to go up and down stairs, to need assistance showering, to be unable to walk without being in pain, to be on an oxygen tank. I will never take my mobility for granted.
So yeah, you're going to hear about my running. Because it's awesome that I can.
I'll keep the chafing bits to myself though.