WWP

Sunday was my big run. I did surprisingly well.
I don't think I have ran that long or hard in years, I just kept telling my legs to man up in hopes that they wouldn't give up on me.

I was soaked from my head down to my toes. It was amazing, but the aftermath was terrible. I forget that I'm not a spring chicken anymore. Parts of my body were swollen and sore that I wasn't even aware existed. YOUCH. I am 100% sure that I could at least run a half marathon now.
I'd have to train more consistently of course.

I still haven't been able to talk to my brother about my run yet, though I'm sure he'd be really proud of me. Realistically he'd probably say something smart like he could run faster than me and better than me if he hopped on one leg, which is probably true. He's so ripped, I can't wait until he's old and has a pot belly.

During this run I thought of many things, mostly him, and all the ways we tormented each other as kids, but how deeply we have always loved each other too. I'm fairly certain had it not been for Celine Dion's "Because you loved me", my brother would still be pissed off at me. He would hole himself up in his room and I would sing this song to him by the door (my way of saying I was sorry, of course) and then he'd open the door and we'd embrace. I think I made him mad on purpose just so I could have him hold me in his arms. I miss him. I miss him so much.

When my heart got ripped out and stomped on by my first boyfriend my brother was right by my side. He'd slept in my room with me until I felt better and he would hold me until I was done crying. He really has always been my hero. When he joined the military he only solidified that.

Thanks mom, for the best brothers a girl could ask for.
Also, thanks for the sweet matching 90's track suits--thooper thweet!

The Greatest Casualty Is Being Forgotten

It's been such a long time since I've posted last. I've meant to keep up with this blog, but I have been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Chickens still run once beheaded, you know.

I decided to stop counting the days until my brother comes home because it always just makes me so sick to my stomach. It's like a dream sequence in a horror movie when you see a door at the end of the hallway and you almost reach it, but then the hallway extends and the door is a million miles away. Well, that's how I feel. I'm just taking it day by day trying to make it through.

I still get my niece every weekend, which is so nice because she and Cash love each other so much. I love having a piece of my brother here with me, it makes my heart long a little less.

I have signed up for an 8K run (5 miles) benefiting the Wounded Warrior Project. I am so nervous I could throw up. For the average person 5 miles is a lot, I'm totally making that up right now to make myself feel better because I'm not as physically prepared as I should be.

I figure though, if my brother can manage living in a different country far away from home and his family, the least I can do is run in honor of him and all the military service members who have suffered an injury, visible and some not so visible--as well as those who sadly lost their lives. This charity is so near and dear to my heart, it doesn't get nearly enough publicity. The money raised goes to an extremely important cause. To learn more, go to their website and check it out. http://www.woundedwarriorproject.org/ 

Well..I have got to run. I'm an avid procrastinator, therefore, I must get my music list ready for my run walk crawl. Wish me luck!

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