Over the past few months I have opened this page a countless amount of times only to write a few sentences, feel a tightness in my stomach, and then close my laptop. Writing was my outlet of choice, the only healthy way I knew to release and almost make light of everything that I felt, but now it has become a main source of the very anxiety that I try to escape from. I am entirely to blame for that, though. Maybe I should not have made my blog so accessible through the third page of a Google search, or perhaps catered my movie references toward a younger audience.
But that is all in the past, or so it will be one day.
Yes, this year did have its shitty moments; however, something incredible also happened: I actually accomplished a goal that I set for myself and did not let my anxiety ruin it.
For years I have let my anxiety sabotage me. Whether it was not letting people to get to know the “real” me in high school because of I felt no one would accept me, or not allowing myself to reach a weight loss goal because of the attention I was starting to receive, self sabotage is all that I know.
Within the last year I have started to run. I used a Couch to 5K program on my phone and in eight weeks was able to run my first 5K last December. Then on New Year’s Eve I dragged my poor best friend out to Central Park so I could run a four mile race at midnight. I have done the whole “get dressed up and shitfaced” bit on previous New Year’s Eves, but this was by far my favorite way to ring in a year. During that run, as I was freezing my ass off and regretting the tapas and tequila that were consumed two hours prior, I envisioned myself at the 2014 Midnight Run and where I would be. I saw a court reporter (not quite, but getting there!) who was at her goal weight (um, oops?) and entering 2015 with guaranteed entry to the NYC Marathon.
Well, thank the fucking Lord (starting to weave my hand basket) I accomplished one of those goals. This year I ran eleven (11) fucking races; including: two half marathons, three 10Ks, what seemed like 500 4-mile races around Central Park, and the hilliest fucking 5K imaginable. And on July 12th I had to stop myself from sobbing as I crossed the finish line that secured my guaranteed entry. On November 1, 2015 a dream that I have had since watching one of my best friends do it in 2009 will come true: I will run the New York City Marathon.
I also met an incredible group of runners through, of all things, Instagram: the social networking app that has caused me more drama in the last 12 months than I had in four years of being in a sorority. Last year I started following this one awesome mother of three while searching through hashtags related to a bike tour that I was doing and saw that she was completing the 9+1 program offered by the New York Road Runners.
(The 9+1 program allows members to run 9 qualifying races and volunteer at 1 in one year to earn guaranteed entry to the following year’s marathon.)
Fast forward to this year I was definitely motivated to sign up for some races now, especially after seeing how far she had come in just one year. When she would post pictures of herself and friends at races, I realized that she used a hashtag for runners from our area and started to search through it and find other runners. I had no idea that this would open me up to an entire community of runners, many of whom I have been lucky enough to meet and run with. Especially my sole sister and fellow Ninja Turtle; I would not have gotten through some of my worst races if it were not for her sticking by me and helping me through.
Back at that first race in February my anxiety was at its peak. Not only did I have to live through a hilly four mile race (oddly enough, this is now one of my favorite courses) but I had to somehow do eight more races. That race is where I met a woman from upstate (also from Instagram) who shared the same goal of running the 2015 marathon. I would not say that this diminished my anxiety, but it comforted me to know that I was not alone.
A little over eight months later, the three of us (and countless amazing runners that I have met along the way) have secured our entries. And that awesome mom? Well, she and even more countless amazing runners are now just a few days away from crossing that finish line in Central Park. I am fortunate enough to have secured a volunteer position distributing medals so I will be there to see, take pictures with, and cry like a baby with some of them.
So, you see, there was a silver lining in some of the downfalls of this year. The New York City Marathon is the one that deserves to be my first. And they always say you never forget your “first.”
Color Me Neurotic 