Every January is the annual Rock ‘N Roll Marathon in Phoenix. Over the years, I’ve participated in six of these — SIX! — 5 half marathons and one 10K. (Shocking, right? In high school I couldn’t even run a mile without stopping.)
While I’ve been coming to this realization, slowly but surely, over the last decade, it struck me like a bolt of lightning the day I ran my last such race: it was a chilly, crisp morning, but the sun was out shining. I finished at my best pace ever. And I was taking advantage of the free post-race beer. I was euphoric, even though I had recently gotten out of a relationship that I thought was the real thing.
Sweaty, grinning, and clasping my medal, I sent my mom a post-finish line selfie. She replied simply, “You look happy.” IT WAS THEN — THE BOLT OF LIGHTNING!
I had no one to cheer me on. There was no one waiting for me at the finish line. I had realized: I WAS ALONE. BUT I WAS HAPPY.
Right then and there, I decided I would rather be single.
Specifically, I would rather be single than:
- Dating but complaining, knowing it’s not a good match but too comfortable to break up or hoping marriage will fix things
- Married but miserable, as problems continue to mount
- Divorced but in debt, arguing over assets or battling for custody
- Just fill in the blank!
I’ve seen so many friends in lackluster marriages at best, and destructive marriages at worst, that I thank God the worst I have to complain about is spending Saturday night alone — which truthfully, is kind of nice sometimes.
So I’m holding out for that 99% relationship — (because nothing is 100%) — even if it takes me 10 years.
Check back with me in 10 years.
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