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Getting lost 17 miles in...

I won't bore you with too many details.. but with the exceptions of being a mother and limping a 21 year marriage along, training for a marathon was really one of the hardest things I've ever done.

In grand Amberish fashion, I got lost on race day, around mile 17 I went a bit off track.

The fun had officially worn off, my adrenaline was gone, play list was stale, it was me and about 10 of my closest slow runner friends.

I sorta knew where I was, and by my calculations I knew that in order for me to get out of the woods it was going to be a long, dark, uphill run. Oh and it was raining too.


**long exasperated sigh**

There are days/months/years that are just that.

A massive long, uphill, winding battle.  It truly seems like it just might go on forever and gosh.. the pain, the comfort level (or rather UNcomfortable level) is just too much.

This is where things get a bit tricky.

A sweet fellow chubby runner in front of me veers to the right.

I stop.

I'm pretty sure that…

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