I’ve always wanted to run a marathon. My father was a distance runner and I was raised on stories of running. “Reeks’s Theorem: In a closed-circuit run, there’s always more uphill than downhill.” “My coach used to say, ‘How tired are you? If a lion was chasing you, could you keep running?”
I ran cross-country in high school, exactly half my life ago. I did well enough for the tiny team at my school, but never competed seriously much beyond our 3 mile races and the odd 5k “Turkey Trot.” But on Sunday, my younger son’s second birthday, I purchased a bib for a half marathon.
No one is more surprised than I am. But, the thing is, I think I can actually do it. I have a training regimen, a gradual build mile after mile, day after day, over the next four months. I can envision it. My husband said the other day, “Well, you can run 3 miles already. It’s just 10 more.”
Marathoning seems to be the theme of my world right now, no less so than this slice of life challenge. I’ve never blogged, never journaled, but here I am, committing to a daily entry. And I have a vision of what it might look like to achieve it. After all, I’ve written 5 posts so far – it’s only 26 more than I’ve written in my life before. But I have a vision. An entry a day. Support from the crowd of Slicers. The possibility of a reward at the end!
This is what I want students and teachers to understand about stamina. That there are tasks that look insurmountable. That there are quests that are nowhere near what you’ve taken on before in your life, or even in your wildest dreams. But you can make a plan, and you can gather support, and then you can go for it.
Stamina is knowing that you’re tired, really tired even, but if the lion was chasing you, you could keep going. And so you do.