So I've just got to let it out. . . .
From the girl who has had a dysfunctional relationship with her body since she was 12. . .
Who always wanted to be an athlete but always quit before she really tried just in case she might really try and then really fail. . .
Who ate her way into 5 extra pounds in college to deal with stress. . . .
And then had to walk to build her weak muscles into fitness during the summer. .
And still does not have this thing called healthy living all figured out. . .
I ran a 5K Saturday.
In 23 minutes and 13 seconds.
I came in ninth out of 60ish people, the 8 people ahead of me were two VERY athletic boys and 6 high school track/cross-country runners, and I even beat our school's head athletic trainer by 3 seconds.
I walked today for exercise, but I'm itching to get my shoes on and run again, because I spent all of Saturday after the race unable to concentrate, only able to think Oh my freakin' goodness, I'm a runner. An athlete.
I'm 20 years old and for the first time since I was 11, I'm the person I've always wanted to be: an athletic book-loving, tea-drinking teacher/runner/student.
I'm still determined to get my time under 20 minutes by the time I'm 25, but for now I'm going to keep basking in this beautiful thing called finding myself.