The thing about goals...

Minutes from reaching my summer goal...

I've never really considered myself a goal-setter. I like to think of myself as more of a free spirit — the go-where-the-world-takes-you sort. Sure I often choose an area of focus where I'd like to improve some aspect of my life, but those things are less measurable than what I think of as goals. To me, goals answer the question, "How will you know when you achieved your goal?" For example, the goal is to stop chewing one's nails. The answer to that question above? When I can get a manicure without feeling like my hands are being judged.

This summer, I set such a goal. And it felt like a big one when I started. It felt so big that I didn't tell too many people at first, for fear of not completing it. I signed up for a half marathon with a childhood friend who lives a time zone away.

Running goals are some of the best to set, because there is a schedule that you simply need to follow to succeed. "Simply need to follow." Except when it doesn't feel so simple to get up at 5 a.m. Or when you just can't fathom having to run a fourth time in a week. Or when the weather is so, so, so hot, you review the symptoms of heat stroke before you head out. Running goals can also bring out the worst and whiniest inner dialogue...at least in me they do!

But I did it. I followed the schedule, missing only three runs in total. (And one of those, I traded in for a bike ride.) And when the big day came, I was ready.

Life is lovely when your ready. Life is lovely when you surprise yourself. Life is lovely when you experience something your younger self would have considered unreachable.

Thirteen-point-one miles. Two hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-six seconds of consecutive cardio. They weren't all lovely on their own, but collectively, they were beautiful—much like life itself.

Showing off my race bling. Apparently I look a little drunk after running 13 miles. 

I cherish this woman and our friendship. So glad to have reached this goal with her!

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