patience is not my middle name

Right now most everybody in the world are counting down the days until Christmas.

Me, I 'm counting down the days until I can run again. Earlier this week my desire for lacing up my running kicks was almost unbearable, I almost did venture out in the cold for a run. Almost. But then I thought of how much effort it would take to put on those shoes and the feeling subsided. Oh, I know. I'm in my ninth month of being pregnant. I wouldn't have gotten very far or have gone very fast. But oh! To be running!! Be still my beating heart.

I have always felt nostalgic towards running a couple times a year. In the spring and fall. Reason being that those particular times of the year coincide with when I would be running track or cross country in junior high and high school. And I think now I have to add this time of the year because this was when I started training for my marathon last December. Starting my runs before the sun woke-up and finishing with my face and hair frosted over. Ahhhh....those were the days.

But I know I'm not that crazy. Because of this article I read yesterday.

There are more of me out there. I am not alone in my desire to run.

One summer when I was high school, my dad was trying to get me to go out and go running, to get ready for the upcoming cross country season. I don't remember what lame teenager excuse I gave him for not wanting to go. But he told me, "Go running. That's what you do is run. If you were a butler, you'd buttle. You're a runner. Go running."

Besides the made up word 'buttle', everything else in that statement is true. I'm a runner and I want to go running. Who cares if I'm about to birth my fourth child?

Patience, rachel, patience.