There isn't much time left before my half marathon. And because I lost a month of training thanks to my fractured toe, I realized I needed to ramp up the runs. I knew I could run 9.5 miles, and that would probably be good enough to get me through. But I don't want to just make it through my race. I want to feel okay after.

So last Saturday, I left the house and started running toward town. When I got to one particularly lonely stretch of road, I called my husband and told him to get in the car to come get me. I said I didn't think I'd get all the way into town before he reached me, but that was okay because I was tired.

I kept running and was shooting for a big group of trees off in the horizon. I looked at the ground and started counting footsteps to make the time pass. As I ran, I kept hoping my husband would come up behind me and rescue me. But when I got to the trees, I looked ahead and saw it went downhill . My spirits were lifted and I flew down the hill all the way into town.

I ran 14 miles that day. But I had to push myself past the mindset that I couldn't do it. I wonder what I would have done if I got to the trees and it was uphill?