As I was running tonight, I realized that it's been weeks since I've had to stop because of pain in my feet or shins. I wore the compression stocking that doesn't fit as well, so I had to walk a few times when my leg started cramping. This reminded me of how much less pain I've been experiencing.
I didn't crochet as I ran. I let others be the L.A. crazy (like the bagpiper, the woman in black running in the street, and the woman pushing her dog in a stroller). I'm nice like that. I did run an extra half a mile. And I walked two miles with the girls this afternoon running errands, which should count as at least seven miles with stroller resistance and seven year old resistance.
When I started this experiment in being athletic, I was mostly thinking of running those 13.1 miles (I won't leave off that tenth of a mile) as a means of raising money to help restore the lives of girls and women who have had so much taken from them. I wanted to do this because for years I have heard stories of girls sold into slavery and have been able to do nothing about it. Every once in a while I will see how wonderful and beautiful my daughters are and it will hit me how lucky I am, how lucky they are. I think of the daughters who are sold, because their parents are tricked, desperate, or dead. I run for my daughters, so they will learn to care, and for the daughters who have no one else to run for them.
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