My name is Melanie. 

I like to write and I like to run. Scratch that. I love to do both of these things. 

On the surface, this blog is about my figurative and literal journey to get to the Madison Marathon in Wisconsin.  The road has been shaky and full of potholes. The race takes place Sunday, May 27 -- Memorial Day weekend. I probably won't know until the last minute whether I'll be able to run this race. 

This will be my eighth marathon. I'm running it because it's the annual meetup of the National Black Marathoners' Association, a group that I've become very involved with online. I'll finally get to meet many of the friends I've made from this group on Facebook.

I want to share this journey because for me, running distance is about more than running. It's about forcing yourself to rely on faith, believing in yourself and continuing on, even when you're hanging on by a thread. It's also about picking yourself up. There are a lot of life and faith lessons in running.

My life is pretty tumultuous right now. Last fall, I finished the New York City Marathon. For a runner, it was a disastrous finish -- I'd undertrained because of work and health issues and it took me 7.5 hours. I walked the last several miles. I was staying with my mom, who lives in the NY apartment where I grew up. I managed to fall into the subway and make my way back after the race.

The next morning, my mom woke me up to say she wasn't feeling well. She took herself to the emergency room. I was moving so slowly and poorly from the race that I had to meet her there. A few hospital and doctor visits later, I was told my mom was very ill. My home and job are in the D.C. area, but my company let me work out of the NY bureau most of the time so I could spend time with my mom and take care of her. We became close after my father died 20 years ago, but we've really been getting reacquainted. I make a run down to my house once a week or every two weeks to check on things and work out of the home office.

Oddly, many people who know what my life has become have not changed their behavior -- I get many folks pulling at me for favors, advice, a shoulder, directions, a recommendation, you name it. I also have a lot of competitive people around me (and I'm here to tell you that men can be just as catty as women). As a result, I have a lot of stress.

With all this, I have rediscovered running. Because of health issues, I'm slower than I once was, but I'm finding I need to do it. It's like meditation, or Bible study -- it helps me. I'm not sure why. 

What has really been nice is that my mom supports it and I think it has even affected her. On top of insisting that she's going to be OK (and I choose to follow her lead), she now ascribes to the philosophy that it's important to use it or lose it. When she was being discharged from a rehabilitation facility about a month ago, I prepared to walk to the end of a circular driveway to catch a cab and bring it up to her. She insisted she could walk to the end of the driveway. "It's important to move," she told me. My mom has never been one to talk that way. I was happily surprised.

Last Friday, I had scheduled myself to run 20 miles. I wasn't feeling well physically and I was feeling kind of sad and overwhelmed. Ten miles in, I had to stop. It was the first time I felt like I really couldn't go on anymore. I forgave myself, grabbed my stash of energy gels, candy and water and left the park. Today is Saturday and I didn't get to run at all. I had a lot to do around the house. I'll try again tomorrow, and try again for the 20 miler on Tuesday. That should be interesting since I'll have to work later that day. 

Thanks for joining my journey.