I have my ruby red slippers on.
|That is not the camera, my legs are that white.|
I know that Glinda won't magically appear so I can click my heels. I have to walk the distance.
I am also wearing my Shawshank t-shirt.
|Boob shot is free (that should get some blog hits!)|
This is symbolic too. Like Andy Dufresne I am going to work slowly to tunnel out of the prison that is my weight. I have never felt like I couldn't do anything I wanted to, but I know I could feel better and be healthier. I have never felt like people judge me because of my weight, but maybe I am just naive. It is time for change. It is time for action.
Today is the day. I am doing this. Watch for updates.
Andy Dufresne: [in letter to Red] Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
20 minutes to race.
It was a beautiful day to walk. Some of my co-workers were there and encouraged me. I was getting nervous about the walk. What if I couldn't finish?
They announced the start and asked those with strollers and slow walkers to stay in the back and runners in the front. I stuck myself in the back.
I started walking as fast as I could trying to keep a steady pace. The group fanned out pretty quickly. I was NEAR the back, but not the last. A father and his daughter walked in front of me and he spent fifteen minutes talking about the difference between kilometers and miles.
Then I passed a big red one taped to the trail. I had made it ONE MILE! It was the farthest I'd walked in, honestly I don't know how long. High school?
The trail was set up to walk halfway and then turn around walk back. This had been a question when I'd signed up. I didn't want to walk 3.1 miles and then have to walk back.
About twenty minutes in I started seeing the lead runners making their way back. I gave them a wave and a smile, but they were more focused than I was and didn't wave back.
I just kept going. There was a water station but I'd brought my own so I didn't stop. The father/daughter team stopped and I moved ahead. I just focused on steps, moving forward.
I started to worry because I didn't see the halfway point. I started asking the runners coming the other way.
"Halfway point coming up?"
Nod. How would he know.
"Do I get to turn around soon?"
Thumbs up. Did you even hear me?
"Is that blue t-shirt up there the turn around?"
I made it halfway!!!!
The halfway lady took my picture. She even got the halfway line in there as proof.
Now I had walked as far as I still needed to walk. I was alone. I just focused on each step, the feel of the asphalt beneath my feet, breathing in and out. I had sweat rolling down my back. I wished that I'd worn sunglasses and a hat. I wished I'd left my purse in my car.
I passed the ones behind me who praised my progress.
I got to the water station and filled up my bottle. I walked behind a group of tweens. They were meandering. I started to go around them while they debated on whether to run or not.
"Don't let the old lady pass you!" I announced, coming around.
They laughed and started to speed up. There was another water station and they were entranced by the offer of Gatorade. I kept walking.
After the passing a big red one taped to the trail telling me it was almost over, I called my husband.
"I'm almost there."
"Great," he said, "you don't even sound out of breath."
I played some Elvis on my phone for a few songs until I made my way around a bend and saw the finish line. It was there. I had done it.
For the last fifteen feet I ran. And strangers cheered.
I finished in one hour and four minutes. I was hot. I was sweaty. My feet and ankles are killing me. But I did it.