November 5th.

In a little over a month, I'll be suited up in my Brooks, running shorts, and a sweat wisking shirt(or a heat keeping shirt because the weather here is bi-polar). On the starting line with a thousand some-odd other people, we'll look at each other with eyes that ask why on God's green earth did we sign up for this?

On November 5th, I'll be running my first half-marathon. I trained for one in the spring and successfully completed 13+ mile runs, but I had a conflict the day of the race. So, this fall, I try again. This time I've paid my excessive dues just to wear a bib with a number on it and get a medal.

But, I'm excited. No, I'm ecstatic. Even in the midst of all the school and changes that have happened this semester, I have a little consistency. I run. I love the feeling of pushing one step more. Reaching a goal.

In the spring when I was training for the half I never ran, I made my running somewhat of an idol (instead of somewhat, please insert "a lot"). When people threw off my running schedule, I was upset. I got angry. This time, I'm trying something a little different. I'm trying to pray for a handful of people while I'm out on my runs.

It's a great way to get the focus off me, and multi-task. I get to talk with the God of the universe while I'm out running through his creation.

November 5th. I'm ready. Bring it on.