There is one "for sure" in this thing called life, we are all going to die. And with all certainty, I am prepared for death, but I am not prepared for the mundane.
The fear that drives us.
It is the same fear that fuels me.
The fire that has burnt me is the same fire that ignites me.
The darkness that wrapped me up is the same darkness I know lingers in the shadows that I refuse to dance with.
So here I am, running this race, it doesn't matter when I die, I think I have died many times, it matters more how I choose to live.
My courage doesn't make sense to those who choose comfort.
I don't ask anyone to walk in my shoes.
I don't ask people to try to understand my trauma.
I don't expect people to read my story with understanding.
But this race is who I am. This race is all I have overcome.
This race is the pain prevailed.
The disappointment mastered.
The abandonment accepted.
This is who I am. Determined with all grit, all fire, all darkness, all trauma to fight all of hell to use every demon meant to destroy me-strengthen me.
I am not afraid to fail. I am afraid to not try. I am not proving anything to anyone, but me.
I have no time goal for Western States 100 but to finish.
I have found myself emotionally rattled the last couple weeks. On the verge of a breakdown. The training runs have been strenuous. Climbing hills, holding pace, running in the heat with only one option: FINISH EMPTY.
As the training runs get harder, I reach into the younger version of myself. I see that young girl in that one room schoolhouse checking in on my mother making sure she is breathing. I see that child hiding behind the recliner as fists are being thrown and blood is smeared on the tile. I see that brown eyed child trying to help her mother out of the DT'S and convulsions from running out of booze and money. I see that teenager begging for her mother to put the bottle down and the phone cords being ripped out of the trailers walls.
And I clench my fists, and I bite my tongue util I taste the blood, and I run all that hell out of me.
I don't run the risk of failing.
I run the risk of not fighting. I was created for this.
I was given the fuel as a child.
I was given the fire, the darkness.
But I was given the LIGHT to see the RISK is worth it all.
We were not meant to not be challenged.
We were not meant for the mundane.
We are equipped to suffer, yet we let fear be our voice. When things don't make sense to us, we judge it without conviction.
We were created to run through the storm, but most of us avoid it.
This past week was my peak week. SO many heavy thoughts. I let myself feel all the feels. I thanked the Lord for all the afflictions. Such beauty.
Glory to glory.
The Lord has equipped me for this 100 miler. And He will see me every mile. Success requires context, and I will have 100 miles of it no matter the outcome!
I am so grateful for the last 6 months of training. Maybe the Lord broke me so he could prepare me and design me from the rock bottom up.
"Who can list the glorious miracles of the Lord? Who can ever praise Him enough?" Psalms 106:2
Gratitude isn't anchored in in ease, in the simple, it is anchored in intimacy. The quiet miles of fear, the long hours of suffering, the climbs of trepidation.
RUN THE RISK. 
Quit worrying what everyone thinks. Run the Risk, live Life out loud. Find offer yourself some challenges, find your fuel in your fear. Not everyone will understand the fear, the fatigue, the pain or the insecurity that your trail brings, as most will choose to avoid it. But You Do.
Life is meant for the living.
In Peace, not Pieces,
Anita
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