Running

Today's run was long.  I got through it amazingly enough.  2 hours and 11 minutes.  It was at least 13 and a half miles.  I feel good, though.  I am exhausted but happy that I got through it.  I am a bit wind burned from the wind from Sandy which amuses me. 
My hubby does not really understand yesterday's blog.  I get it.  Unless you are me, it is tough to understand.  I think for me, it is knowing that the woman I want to be is not worried about a schedule and how its lack of it will affect me and is not so bitter.  I spend so much time being bitter.  My mother was bitter.  I don't want to be bitter, but it is the bitterness and terror that constantly drives me.  Why can I not let either go.  Both are exhausting.  That 20-30 minutes yesterday when I was not bitter or terrified was so nice and peaceful and I felt great and for the first time probably ever, I was not thinking about food or my next meal or when I could get away with eating again.  I loved that feeling.  I want it back.  Carrying the bitterness is no way to live.  It has held my mother hostage for almost her entire life. 
On a rerun on Oprah today, the gentleman said that when you are doing what you were truly meant to do, you are engaged and at peace and happy.  I know running is one thing that I was truly meant to do.  I may be exhausted and hurting while I am doing it, but I am at peace and happy and feel in balance.  I think part of the reason I was on the verge of a constant panic attack last week was because I missed my long run.  I simply need it.  It nourishes me in a way that nothing else can.  I love what it does for my body too.  I never thought my legs would ever look like this.  My mother always made an issue of my fat thighs and told me that in my cheerleading skirts people would say to me, "thunder thighs."  I never thought that I would love my legs.  It is the long runs.  I look at my legs and I am amazed and thankful and just want to run more.  I find that the rowing and running is a deadly combination.