Pride. Arrogance. Shame. It's the same thing, from a generatiive standpoint.
I've been training for the Chicago Marathon for about six months. It's been amazing. I've never focused on something so physically taxing for so long, and it's made such a difference in my life. As a person who's often too focused on the RIGHT NOW, a slow-building schedule of increased mileage was antithetical to my personality. And it was exactly what I needed.
Sadly, I got whomped with a serious case of bronchitis, which triggered a really gross asthmatic reaction.
I've been out of training for almost two weeks. I'm still out out of work. And it doesn't look lilke I'll be able to run 2 miles until next week at least, let alone 26.2. If I was advising anyone else, I'd tell them that running the race would be a grave disservice to work and family.
Part of me thinks I should do it anyway, but that's pride. And arrogance.
Part of me feels like I'm wimping out: but that's just shame.
Theree's always next year. And the year after that.
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