Leah vs. The Virginia 10-Miler
“Oh gosh, what am I doing?” was the question that blasted through my head 15 seconds before 8am on September 28. To set the scene around that thought, I need to add a few more essential details. I was actually standing about two rows behind a huge starting line in Lynchburg, Virginia. My palms were sweating a bit as I double-checked my watch to make sure my GPS signal would fail me. Not here, not now. Of course, I was at a race. That’s been a common thing this year: racing. Jumping into whatever race suited my fancy, running as fast as I reasonably could without destroying my ability to stand upright (I still have a hard time gauging that, as I routinely find myself leaning sideways or sprawling knees-first after a race of any distance). I am no stranger to the starting line. However, this starting line was a little different. I did not choose this starting line. Two months before September 28, I had no plans to be in Lynchburg, VA. I was actually in Battleground, Wash...
