I’ve written and re-written this post so many times. It has been all I have thought about since the list of 2013 San Francisco Marathon Ambassadors was announced.
The latter is probably the most accurate description of where I am at. Somehow I have allowed this title, or lack of, to describe my identity, both online and in real life. It has left me wondering why I spend hours on the computer, tweeting, sharing, taking photos, encouraging others to chase their dreams and goals… doing all of these things when I can’t even serve as a figure for a race in my own city. The city that taught me how to fall in love with running.
I understand that I am blessed in my life. I’m healthy, have a wonderful family, amazing friends and the ability and passion to run. Please forgive me for lamenting that my name was left off a list.
I want to thank everyone that reached out to me showing their support, frustration, confusion, and sharing their thoughts and prayers. I’ll thank each of you individually.
This is my attempt to move on. To power through and just keep moving forward. It still hurts. Not as much as it did yesterday, but it’s still there. Wifey still sees it in my eyes. She knows I try to pretend like it doesn’t bother me.
The best way I can describe it is that it has crushed my spirit.
That being said. I am registering for the 2013 San Francisco Marathon. There will be no joy in this registration. It doesn’t feel the same. The excitement isn’t there. I wanted 2013 to be the year I ran my best time. The year I finally overcame all the obstacles that have plagued me the last 3 times I’ve run the event, either being injured before or during. I wanted to serve as an ambassador… as a symbol of resilience, encouragement, inspiration… as a true example of reaching the finish line with determination and endurance. Not being the fastest runner, but the runner that cheers people on before, during and after the race.
I wanted to run with the confidence that not only do I BELIEVE in my ability as a runner and motivator, but the backing of the race. The backing of a race in my home city that says “This guy. This guy is good enough to lead you to the start and across the finish line.”
But it wasn’t meant to be. It may never be.