I was moving into Cramer Hall (RIP) on some ungodly hot day in August with all the other pencil-sized girls there two weeks prior to classes starting who all had one intention: to rush a sorority. So you can only imagine the high-pitched soundtrack of this event. Anyways, I had to go grab the key to my new crib (aka a 12x12 cement square) from Pershing Hall (I would later find out that Pershing Hall constantly smelled like a septic tank filled with spoiled eggs). While in line, I decided to make small talk with the girl in front of me...Anna Zapata. I can't remember what I asked her, but what I do remember was the second she answered, I became immediately confused by the twangy, twisted language that came out of her mouth. Then, I immediately became socially inept by blurting out, "Where are you from?" in a highly disgusted tone (great way to make friends on a 28,000 person campus when I knew no one). Luckily, the feisty Anna rebutled with a "Dallas...where are you from?"spoken in an equally curious and disgusted manner. Up until then, I was completely naive of my Chicago accent that made me sound like my IQ was dropping at a rapid pace. And there you have it, a friendship was born. Anna and I lived with each other for 3 out of the 4 years in college (due to an interruption of sorority laws making us live in-house for at least a year) and became the bestest of friends. Hence, the title of this post: roommates. Do realize that she is more than just a roommate but "Best friend" just didn't work with my obsession of the MLA handbook's definition of "alliteration".
This explanation of our friendship appears entirely irrelevant to my training of the 13 half marathons, besides the fact that now I have an official running buddy for all of them which I'm thrilled about. Getting to see my fav texan once a month is already a sign of a good year. Which brings me to my next topic of this post: resolutions.
Resolutions are made for the purpose of bettering yourself, achieving a goal...or just jumping on the bandwagon for a month and then forgetting about it by February. I'm in the boat of doing this to achieve a goal, but in the process I realize I'll also better myself. I just finished my first week of training (and actually am currently thawing out from my 10 mile run in 20 degree Chicago weather. Thanks Mother Nature.) and it has given me so much to think about. My obnoxious repetition of listening to "Stereo Love" has reminded me I need to learn how to pace and not speed when I'm hoppin' to da beat. The beat also kind of makes me want to do hard drugs in the back of a swanky club. (Don't worry mom, Fitz's isn't remotely swanky and the only thing I'm addicted to is string cheese these days. Ps. I think we're running low.) However, when I'm not bobbin' my head to the beat, I'm thinking. A lot. Sometimes I think about cutting my long pony tail off, but then I realize that I won't be able to "whip muh hair back and forth" and I don't want to piss off 9-year old Willow Smith. But most of the time, I'm thinking about life. (I know, I'm so deep. And, I'm not referring to Opera's narration series).
I think about why things have happened, why friendships have ended, why my sister's dogs bark at leaves blowing in the wind. This past week though, I thought about how truly blessed I am. I have the greatest friends in the world (mad props to Keldawg, Caitlin, Sarah, Kimmy & Katie) who have already asked what races they can come to, to cheer me on (I'm still working on convincing them to actually RUN one with me!) I also have the greatest family who are supporting me through this thick and thin. (Mary E even offered to start cooking healthy meals...and by that I mean, start cooking in general. Love you mom.) My sister is also planning on training for the Chicago half with me, and I was blessed with the presence of my cousins and their kids and Portillo's this week. I have great co-workers; Jen loves the updates on my training. Thus, furthering the idea that I really am blessed with amazing people in my life right now.
And as I finished my first week of training today on the Prairie Path, I realized two more things: 1. The path was slightly rerouted near the gazebo on Spring Rd. (Oh Elmhurst Park District, how you toy with my mind) and 2. I live in a great town. In a town of 47,000 some-odd people (give or take a few who probably counted their cats as people in the recent census), Elmhurst has a small-town feeling. As I ran past complete strangers, they smiled and waved as if I was their own kid they were seeing off on a school bus. How much more enjoyable can training me when I'm surrounded by smiles? (Okay, I just sounded like Barney. Damn you, purple dino). Again, I am blessed.
So as I go into week 2 of training, I presume I'll have more thought-filled trots. Potentially some not as deep (i.e. what will happen on this season's The Bachelor which starts this week), but perhaps I'll come across more good feeling thoughts about this resolution. Because the fact of the matter is, I'll come out of this goal a better, stronger (maybe skinnier?!) person with people who will support me regardless if I cross the finish lines with fire in my eyes, or tears in my eyes. And that, my friends, makes me want to run that much faster.
Peace out, cub scouts.
ps. I warned ya I was long-winded.
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