this race was about my redemption. I had something to prove – to me, myself and I.

You see I was recently divorced.

I started training before it was actually finalized as a way to push through my depression and anxiety. And if I’m being completely honest, I needed to prove that I still had IT. You know – that even without a man, I was desirable.

And I had allowed myself to wallow in self pity for too long while separated. It was time to get up, dust myself off and keep it moving.

I took pictures with friends before we started the race and my adrenaline was pumping. There were two lanes – one for walking, the other for running. I looked condescendingly at the people in the walking lane and thought to myself “why would I enter a 5k to WALK?”

The time came to take your positions and I joined the runners, full of anticipation. Music was blaring in my ear.

3…2…1…GO!

I took off in full stride with a smile on my face. I was doing it! I had overcome my hesitation to enter the race, put in the work to get physically and mentally fit and now it was happening. The first mile felt like a breeze.

The other day I found myself on the verge of a panic attack. No one was wearing a mask and they were piled on the beach like sardines. At least that’s how I saw it. I looked at my husband and felt torn. I wanted to run to the car and hit the turbo button home. But, he looked so contented and fully in his element. Still, I headed back up the stairs while saying “this isn’t going to work”. I had a choice. Go into full panic mode and ruin this little getaway that was MY idea. Or pull myself together so I could think with a clear head of suitable options.