She lay there with her spots displaying her youth. Dead before her time. Her lashes up close cause me to choke back emotion; long and thick they are like the ones you pay good money for if not blessed through genetics. 

A beautiful deer, gone at the likelihood of an unexpected car. 

A casualty of life’s advances. When the environment is compromising nature’s safety. 

Can I really blame the vehicle though when I’ve come close to being the one whose brakes barely stopped from hitting one myself?

…

I feel like I’m about to run into a crossing vehicle myself today. Maybe derail the progress I’ve made – I am not sure why today is such a struggle. I made it through the weekend, which is always the more difficult of days. 

If I’m real here, then I think what I am experiencing is the valley after the high, so to speak. When the small victory doesn’t take much to knock me down. 

It makes me want to go numb, but I won’t. I want this more. I need to focus on how far I’ve come, and not the journey too far in front of me. 

I am tired. 

…

I decide to cut my marathon in half. I don’t know if I have the energy or desire to spend this much time on this particular endeavor–at least not at this point. 

It feels a bit better, this decision, like I wonder the distance seems too impossible at this time.  

I feel the risen cortisol lower a bit at the smaller mileage. 

That way I can work on improved mileage, strength, flexibility, and maybe an improved goal, like sub 2:15. Then at the one-year milestone, run the full marathon. 

Lowering the bar may actually change more than my goal, but my overall wellness—by giving me one that is in sight, but just out of reach. 

I will hit the road tomorrow with new stamina in my step, at the accomplishment of another day, today. Sometimes I wonder if when I look too far ahead, this is what kills me in my tracks?