Shine on, you crazy diamond.

"Being consistent," my mom would say is the most important part of every relationship, beginning anything, ending something, working through a problem, overcoming an obstacle, loving, hurting, moving forward and remembering.  32 years of not quite understanding and then, as my plain bagel pops up in the toaster at 4:32AM on a Friday morning, 88 minutes before my 20 mile run will promptly start at 6:00AM, it hits me.  

There, in the dark hours before a huge run, is consistency.  It is in my breakfast and my pup sitting by my side.  It is is the half glass of water I drink or the double-checked backpack.  It is in my nervous, beeping Garmin and the way I lock grey eyes with myself in the mirror before I head out the door.  But, perhaps most importantly, it is in my attitude.  From the time my bare feet hit the cold, wood floors, I repeat, "I can do this."  There is no room for doubt or nerves.  Conquering this run becomes a foregone conclusion in my mind as soon as my alarm wakes me up.  There can be no other way.  And it is in this mindset when I rely on the consistency of my habits and my heart to propel me out into the darkness, beyond my own limits, and toward the goal.  

This 20 miles began slowly as I eased myself out of the heat and into the chill waiting for me.  It was hilly and comforting; consistent in its challenge and beautiful in its sunrise.  This run connected me, once again, to the grass and the green and waved silence, like a flag, stories above and majestic.  It became the flock of geese, flying in a perfect and overwhelming "V,"  overhead, and the smile and thumbs up of the complete stranger across the street, seeing the same thing, making eye contact, and it became our shared joy.  This run of mine became my community; and my community became me, ever so, consistently.  

 At mile 15, I was on fire, floating on the knowing smiles of the serious runners I passed - you know, the tall, skinny, grey haired men and women with worn, intelligent eyes and 1982 Boston Marathon windbreakers.  I dug deep, realized there was a lot left, and cranked it up to a speed I rarely touch in shorter runs.  Here it was, my last charge, and I thought of a Pre quote I'd read weeks before:  "A lot of people run a race to see who is fastest.  I run to see who has the most guts."  I was surely not the fastest girl on the Path that morning, but I left it all on the pavement and walked away knowing "I can do this."  Whatever "this" is - I can do it, without doubt or fear, with the consistency my mom instilled in me and if you get in my way, be sure I will walk over you.  

"Don't let someone dim your light simply because it's shining in their eyes."