Somewhere deep down inside, deeper than the sexy six pack hidden under the souvenirs from birthing three children, you had a goal.
You knew that if your husband could recover from being unable to walk for two months and run a 5K less than a year after a terrible car wreck, then surely you could find the strength to set this goal.
You saw active duty and veterans fighting for their recovery despite amputations, deep wounds, traumatic brain injury. You still see them fighting with every fiber of their being. You see all of this with your own eyes; surely you could find bravery within you to attempt this goal.
You knew you have a family and a husband to stay healthy for, a chance to keep breast cancer and heart disease away with exercise and a healthier diet, and most of all, you have yourself.
You awesome bad-ass diva. You effing rock.
Keep doing happy dances after every mile. Keep high-fiving the lamp posts when you run by them. After all, that’s why they’re there.
Above all, keep running.