When I decided to do the Half-Marathon, I knew it would be hard. But I also knew it was something I had to do. For me.

It took just about as much effort for me to sign up as it did for me to cross the finish line. A very different kind of effort, but very similar all the same.

I have some health issues that I knew would make it incredibly challenging, so I really went back and forth about whether or not I should do it. As soon as I decided to go for it, I announced it publicly.

Which I rarely do.

For lots of reasons.

But I knew that saying it out loud would help with my follow-through. And I knew the accountability would provide some motivation for me.

A lot happened between the day I signed up and the day of the race. A lot.

Several friends expressed their concerns about me doing it. But for reasons I couldn't really explain, I knew I needed to.

On race day, it may have taken more courage to join the crowd at the starting line as it did for me to cross the finish.

But by God's grace, I did both.

And I did both for me.

I needed to tackle an unbelievably difficult goal, and unquestionably complete it.

I needed to feel like I accomplished something.

I needed to see a finish line and actually reach it.

And when I did...