The best medal of all

And another good intention bites the dust.

Early this morning runners from all over the area lined up at the school around the corner and took to the streets to run 13.1 miles into Ann Arbor. Running Dexter-Ann Arbor half marathon was a goal I set for myself at the beginning of the year. It was to be my longest run ever, my first half marathon. 

Unfortunately, after months of hard training, I found myself sidelined by a nagging hip injury, and I ended up spending this morning at home with a cup of coffee, being challenged by no more than my own feelings of anger, frustration and defeat. Yesterday, after Calvin's recital, we stopped by the expo to pick up my runner's packet. I'd paid for it, after all, and it came with a t-shirt. Up until that point I'd been feeling disappointed in myself, but seeing my name up on the board and holding my "half marathon" bib number in hand launched me straight into hearbreak. I actually cried on the way home. 

But even though I didn't run the race, my family reminded me that I had won just the same. I had trained, met all my goals leading up to the event, and proved to myself that I could do more than I'd ever thought myself capable of, and for that I earned the best medal of all: I'm proud of myself.