Three years ago, I thought if I could only run a mile, a complete mile, maybe semi-regularly… wouldn’t that be something! Then I did it. I ran a mile. I didn’t hurt or fall down or even feel sore the next day. Then that distance got easy and I tried a little further. Two miles.

A two mile run is my “easy” distance now. I decided months ago to train again for The Great Bridge Crossing over the mouth of the Columbia River, a 10k. That’s 6.2 miles across the Columbia River and up that awful bridge and then when you think it’s done, there’s the last mile on the flat. Every other day, I run. The other every-other-day, like this morning, I walk.

I set goals because they work for me. If I promise to do something—running or knitting—I generally follow through. [Sometimes I suggest making something for a family member and it is not greeted with enthusiasm… so I don’t. When you find a project that required 40 hours of your time tossed in a pile, well, cynicism ensues.]

My underlying goal: keep busy.

This past Wednesday was my first 5-mile training run this year. It’s true that I wanted to sleep most of the rest of the day, but still. I got my miles. Ahead—at least another 5-mile run and at least one 6-mile run.