I'm a marathoner.  An ultra marathoner.  A triathlete.  A half Iron Woman.  I've even won a few age group awards.  But I've had a hard time telling myself that lately.  I've got a lot of demons that are holding me back.  And every time I go for a run, those demons are hanging on to every step.  They whisper in my ear:

Remember when you ran a 3:44 marathon and were only 4 minutes away from qualifying for Boston?

Remember when a 9:00 minute mile was your easy pace?

Remember when you enjoyed running six days a week and hated taking a rest day?

Remember when you were thirty pounds lighter?

You'll never be that person again.

And the worst demon of all....remember the last marathon you truly trained for?  Your husband was having an affair with another woman while you were training and sleeping with her while you were running your marathon.

Every step that I take, every mile I run, trying to take back my sport and find my joy in it, these demons are nipping at my heels.  I try to ignore them...but there truth is I've lost that joy that training used to bring me.  Most days it is a struggle to get myself out there.  I sign up for races hoping that will light my fire and instead my marathon personal worst keeps getting slower.  I want to remember what it feels like.  I yearn to feel fast and fit and strong again.  I'm surrounded by friends, co-workers, customers, acquaintances celebrating their accomplishments and talking about their next big races.  I'm secretly jealous that I can't feel that excitement about my own running.

Today is one of the pinnacle days in the sport of marathon.  Boston is the exclusive marathon that is on most runners' lists, the marathon that most of us yearn to do.  It is my dream to do Boston someday.  And it has been exciting to track friends running it today.  Unfortunately it has also been a painful reminder that I'm not happy with my running.  Last week I decided to back out of the Flying Pig Marathon because of the lack of training and issues with my foot.  It was the right decision, but disappointing.

I started running long before I was married.  I ran because I wanted to, because I wanted to be healthy, because it was fun and felt good.  I didn't have any running friends or training partners.  I didn't have much running gear (except for my fanny pack), and it took a few years before I even stepped foot in a running store.  I ran for myself and no one else.  And somewhere down the line, I lost that.

I'm going to get it back.  It won't be pretty, and it sure won't be fast.  But I won't let the demons hold me back any longer.  I'm going to revisit my love for trail running.  I'm going to hold off on signing up for any more marathons until I'm running consistently and can finish comfortably.  I'm going to leave the Garmin at home and focus on the joy of running instead of how slow I'm going.  I'm going to focus on how I'm grateful for the spirit of runners, how we keep on going no matter what, how we refuse to give up.  And it's the fight that makes us stronger.

And someday I'll run the Boston Marathon.