Halfway.

At the beginning of the year, I must have been drunk and I decided to run 1,000 miles in 2013.

Just the other day, I passed the 500 mile mark for the year, and even though I don't claim to be a math genius, my figuring says that's halfway.  Since there are still a few more days left in the month, I'm halfway there SLIGHTLY ahead of schedule.

I'm not sure why exactly I decided to do this, except I know myself well enough that I know if I don't have something to strive for, I usually just don't bother, and since I'm not training for running races any more, this was a way to keep myself motivated and running regularly.

And that part has totally worked.  I log - on average - 25 miles a week, every week.

Being the goal-oriented, kind of driven gal I am, I would expect this to make me incredibly happy.

Instead, I just feel kind of blah about it.

I'm happy I'm running.  I'm happy I'm meeting my goal.

But I guess I expected to feel lighter, leaner, faster, stronger... better.

And I don't.  At all.

If anything, I'm slower.  And I'm certainly not lighter.

Every morning I wake up, mentally check my schedule for the day and decide if I will run that day.  And if I am running, will it be 3 miles? 5 miles? 7 miles?  Then I do it.

And it's fine.  And the next day, I do it all over again.  And it's still fine.

And I'm halfway!

So there's that.