I am a numbers person. When I was a kid, I used to find the patterns in phone numbers to help me memorize them (thanks to speed dial, I no longer need to do that). Since becoming a runner, my number obsession has intensified. Every bib number is an omen (this week's is 8818 - definitely a good one). Every split holds the key to the future.
Over the past three years, I have kept a record of every mile I have run and exactly how long it took me to do so. When I found my passion for running in August of 2007, I never thought I would become the running addict I am today. But I should have. I never do anything halfway. It's go big or go home. And going home is not an option.
During the last five months of 2007, I logged 251.17 miles. Not bad for my first few months of running. Then, needing a goal for 2008, on January 1, I started my quest for 1,000 miles. I ran and ran, but came up short. I finished the year at 923.79 miles. So, I tried again. And again, I fell short. A broken foot at the end of November 2009, left me 78.65 miles short of my 1,000 mile goal.
I was ticked off. I resolved that 2010 was going to be the year. Third time's the charm. No matter what, I was going to log the miles and break that threshold. I decided to take my running to a new level. Failure was not an option. And it's working.
As of yesterday, I hit 900 miles on the year (well, 902.75 to be exact). 1,000 miles is mine. I am going to crush my goal and test my limits. I am going to break through the mental barriers I've set and prove to myself that if I want something bad enough, I can make it happen. Because the only person who can stop me is me. And I guarantee, that is something I am not going to let that happen.