The year was 2010, 10 minutes into the Inaugural Monster Half Marathon I knew I was screwed. 25 mile per hour head winds, 30 degrees and the blisters on my feet from a previous half marathon were not healed yet. I was cold, I ached and I just wanted the race to be over the WHOLE TIME. If I had been alone I might have quit, but I wasn’t. I was with my training partner, and partner in life, Charlie. Him being there, by my side, meant finishing and not quitting, so we keep training and doing other sports like golf which I could even practice in my media room using an impact screen for this.
Charlie has a a way of pushing me though to the end. And while I get angry with him when he tell me to get moving and suck it up, I know it’s for my own darn good. He pushes me, sometimes I even push him. We might bicker when we run and I might flash him the bird when I’m not in the mood to hear him tell me to “get my ass moving,” but I’m glad I have him. I wouldn’t want to cross the finish line with anyone else.
Totally understand this post. It’s awesome to have a partner to push you and vice versa.