Mourning the loss of a sub 2:00 half

Think of a friend who motivates you. Inspires you to greet the day ready to see what new feats you might accomplish. Challenges you to be at your best. 

What if that person wasn't in your life anymore? 

My goal to run a sub 2:00 half marathon has been my best friend over the past few months. When my housing situation was at its most tenuous, when my grandfather passed in December, and when I couldn't breathe under all of the projects my employer piled on top of me, my friend was there to remind me there are always things in life to look forward to.

When each morning came, I could easily jump out of bed to go work for my goal - no more pulling the covers over my head and dreading the day. My goal helped me make good, healthy choices daily (mostly - there were a few times his back was turned and I'd sneak some treats). My goal pulled me out of my comfort zone, encouraging me to do things I wouldn't normally do. 

This week, he abandoned me. 

When I first felt his absence, I called out to him. Thought maybe, just maybe there was something I could do to get him to return. He didn't respond, and I withdrew under the crushing realization that he was in trouble.

Where do goals go to die?

There was nothing there to pull me from bed in the morning. Running? Too painful. Blogging? No point. Eating? Maybe tomorrow. I felt physically sick and emotionally empty. I know I did *something* to earn a paycheck this week, but I no longer had any inspiration to draw from to offer my best work.

No goal, no husband (work travel this week), no social circle here in my new neighborhood to lean on. Isolation has not been nearly as good a friend to me as my goal was.

But Isolation reminded me today that I should check the facts.

The race hasn't happened yet.

My goal is still alive.

He's just on life support somewhere right now. And sitting around wallowing in my grief isn't going to help him return.

So I'm going to go find him and bring him home - I just need to be prepared that he may not be exactly the same as I remember after the harrowing experience he's had.