I started to reminisce yesterday as I did my daily run.
Good morning, it's Sara Celi.
I was on the treadmill, trying to work in a quick two mile run when I started thinking about how far my feet have carried me.
Four years ago, I couldn't even run one mile. It was a real struggle. I lived in the deep South then, and had a job at KSLA in Shreveport. I remember seeing runners all around the town making their daily journeys, and looking at them with a tinge of envy. How could they do it?
Part of me doubted I ever could. I'd never been an athlete.
Then I met Sean (my husband now) and he encouraged me to try. We started running--just a little a first, and tried to work up to one mile, then three, then five. Sometimes it felt like I couldn't breathe, but we pressed on. We did a 5K, then a 10K, and I found myself wanting more.
Four years later, I've run hundreds of miles. I've already run 15 this week, and I'm in the middle of training for my second half-marathon.
Even my mother believes I'm an athlete now (*said with a smile).
So here's to my feet. They've carried me on this journey, they've endured the hours of punishing runs and dripping sweat. I owe them a lot.