*Warning: curse words ahead.

If you are a runner and you didn’t know the Boston Marathon was on Monday, for shame! It’s the Ron Burgundy of running…it’s kind of a big deal. Not only is this historic event known for the spectators and the punishing course, but it got a broader audience due to the terrible acts of two assholes back in 2013. Seriously, fuck them. But the city and it’s residents pulled together to become Boston Strong.

I can’t quite remember when my “Oh I’ll run Boston when my age and time converge” attitude turned into an “I’m going to qualify as soon as I can” attitude. And of course after several lackluster races that turned back into “can I even?” attitude. I’m an emotional running roller coaster folks. What can I say?

So when Monday rolled around I was happy to watch my friends race the Boston Marathon. I tracked a handful of friends and cheered them on via social media. If I’m being completely honest, I was jealous. It’s just a marathon, right? Why would I even be jealous about this? I’ll tell you why. Because Boston represents hard work and dedication. Everyone who runs Boston beams with pride at having qualified and then been able to race their guts out on a tough as nails, hilly marathon course. And ultimately, isn’t that why we run 26.2 miles to begin with? To do something hard and to push ourselves?

I think my friend Caitlin from Fit and Feminist nailed it in her recap when she said:

“I think there’s something to be said for doing really hard, epic shit. I personally feel like I spend a large portion of my life swaddled in a cocoon of electronic glow and fluorescent lights and maximum convenience, and so making the deliberate choice to step away from all that comfort and inertia into a realm of visceral physical experience – it’s a sharp poke in the ribs that reminds me that I AM ALIVE AND EVEN WHEN IT HURTS IT IS STILL AWESOME TO BE ALIVE.”

Goddamn if that isn’t accurate as hell. I may as well be a kitten for all of the luxuries I am afforded. I have a comfortable bed, I have a car I can drive anywhere, I work in an air conditioned cube farm and I can eat and drink as much food as I like. I have been a big bag of doubt lately and I seriously need to get the fuck over it. It’s preventing me from where I want to go…Boston.

I don’t care if it takes me a few tries to get there, but I really need to remember how I felt on Monday. I had FOMO like nobody’s business and I know I can do it. I just need my mind to show up with my legs on race day. Ultimately, it’s what is holding me back.

Fortunately, I’ve got a lot of talent and help in my corner to get me there. My best friend Keara from No salad, Extra Gluten Please has vowed to push, pull or drag me like a used car to help me get out of my own way and be a veritable Nike ad – just do it. And my friend Rose, another BQ’er and badass, is doing training runs with me.

As she said in her recap, “There is so much history, and so much meaning behind that race, it pulls you in and gives you a giant marathon hug.”

I know it’s going to take work and I hope this post doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass but I’m ready for that giant marathon hug. Who’s coming with me?