the milk rang into the pail, then muffled its ringing in folds of white froth, a measured bell sounding through thick, creamy warmth.
this is hank's bell.
in a deepening sky where the spearpoint firs scratch the clouds, already a moon--like a cast off paring from the setting sun. this is hank's bell, too.
this is hank's bell--secret between peaks of foam, muffled in warm white valleys--this is hank's bell ringing.
when it rings it's like ripples in a pool, spreading in all directions.
be nice if it could ring like this all the time...
but it's hard to stop out other noises.

-from 'Sometimes a Great Notion'-
-Ken Kesey-


we are down in eugene for the half now. looking back it seems as though i have trained forever, and for no time at all. i'm ready. the Brother is ready. the SIL is ready. there is nothing quite as wondrous as going into an undertaking full with the knowledge that you will complete it. it is human immortality. it is being able to fly.

a coworker asked how long i'd been training. i told him 3 months. in reality it is more like 13, which is when the running started. every step i've taken has led me here, the training steps and the racing ones, the fantastic steps and the awful ones, so it is hard to put a timeline to when training for *this* half started. in reality i have been training for this for my entire life, because isn't it the makeup of who i am that allows me to complete this joyful challenge?

this same coworker asked me who i was going with. i told him the Bro and SIL. we have run together and apart, shared snacks and advice and dinners, picked up for each other, taken care of each other's animals, made it possible for each of us to get here. this morning we packed up our cars--animals, courage, shoes, strength, snacks, confidence, hydro packs, determination--until they were full to the brim and caravanned down all together. he said it sounded like a pilgrimage. he's right. of sorts, it is.

finally he asked me why i ran. how do i answer that? to him, to myself? well, now that the race is over and today is finally done, i can only tell him that the run is my bell. each step is what keeps me close to myself. each step takes me a little farther from the heart of the matter of each day and reminds me that that which i love is housed all around me. i can tell him, tomorrow, if he asks again, that the sweat, the ultimate pain, the sweet sick glee of running downhill (it's just like falling off a log, folks!), the tears that swell in my throat as i step onto the track where so many great runners have traced ahead of me, that fleeting moment of glory and the ultimate calm of post race exhaustion--that's why i run. my bell, my bell, takes me to the edge of my own possibilities and then one step further.

to date: 3 half marathons, 2 10ks, 1 8k, 3 5ks. endless hours of training. 400 miles under my feet.

even more than that: confidence. heightened belief. strong muscles. religion of steps. comraderie with people i may never see again. finding the great equalizer in completing the same race as an olympic athlete. a daily deepening appreciation of the people around me, from my sibs who lead on ahead and cheer at the end, to my parents and friends who come to the races, to the friends who text and call to ask how it went, to everyone in my life who sent me facebook messages of pride and encouragement: the great increase in love that i feel for and from those people is enough to keep me going every step.

as my SIL puts it: your feet will take you oh-so-far. your heart will take you farther.