I run for pleasure. Therefore, I'm naturally categorized as more on the insane side, and I can't argue with anyone who thinks so. I'm the person who doesn't feel as if training for the day was sufficient if I don't finish in pain and the person who feels lazy if I take more than a day off from the torture that I call my passion. It's a blessing and a curse, but there's more to it than just the hundreds of hours beating the muscles in your body. It's about using the miracle that your body is and testing what it can do.

However, I'm at that part during the year long of non-stop training when it feels like more of a second job than a catharsis, and a little inspiration is needed to accomplish even your most significant passions at times. I found mine a couple of weeks ago on an early morning on Presque Isle on Lake Erie.

Clear back in April, a friend of mine talked a group of us on our team into doing a half marathon. Actually, there wasn't much talking into...Get a bunch of runners together, ask them to test their limits and there will be no hesitation...Period. Let me tell you, though, it was unbelievably easy signing up, but it was a totally different story crossing the finish line. It's timing was perfect, smack dead in the middle of summer when it's impossible get out of bed to beat the sun in order to train for the 13.1 monster and even more unbearable to be unimaginably abused by it in the middle of the day. Not to mention that I gave myself a grace period of almost a month after track season was over.

So I got a solid three weeks of training in for my very first half marathon when the recommended is around ten. Needless to say, my expectations for my performance were low going in even though the time I was aiming for was extremely hopeful. However, I found my way to the starting line that morning at 7:00 right as the sun was peaking over the slight waves of Lake Erie, and with the support of some of the most dedicated people to the sport I know, a feeling of complete pride came over me. Even with 13.1 miles ahead of me, I felt my doubts behind me. I embraced for the first time that summer the strength of my mind and body coming together and the beauty of being able to just lace on a pair of shoes in order to enjoy what God has blessed me with.

It was easy to be overcome by that joy before the gun went off and even during the first five miles or so as the sun was still making its ascent into the morning sky. The true test came between mile marks six and ten. The pavement became harder, air hotter, pace faster, legs heavier and the finish line seemingly further. But this was something I owed to no one but myself, and I was not just going to finish it. I was going to conquer it.

And I think that's what makes us runners so beautifully insane, for when the going gets tough it's not an indication for us to stop. It's an indication to go at the adversity hard, with a vengeance that says "I am stronger than you. You will not break me." It was during those toughest miles that I discovered that I truly believe in my strength and trust in the abilities that I have strengthened myself. People were stopping, and it was unbelievably tempting , but I knew that the moment I stopped, the race was no longer mine.

So I pushed on, and I chanted to myself, "You can do it.You will not stop."Believe it or not, I convinced myself, and by the end I was believing it. By the finish, I knew it. I knew that I had the strength to do things that I never believed I'd ever be capable of doing. A year ago at this time, I couldn't even run four miles without stopping, and once I hit four miles I was done. However, sometimes all it takes is that leap of blind faith of believing that you have not just the physical strength, but more so the mental strength to get you through those moments of doubt.13.1 miles seemed crazy, but it was so much more than what met the eye. It was less about the mileage and hating every step during the race but entirely about loving myself afterwards for having the strength and determination to continue. Believing that I could do it was the hardest part of the battle, but once my stubborn head was finally able to wrap around the notion that I could, the victory was so sweet.