On my 40th birthday, I proudly ran exactly 3 miles and promptly hung up my running shoes. That is, until fifteen years later when my daughter suggested we do something fun together. I envisioned a girl’s trip. She was thinking marathon. My daughter’s idea won out.
Well not exactly. She signed up for a marathon. I agreed to do a half. Which was exactly 10.1 more miles than I had ever run in my life.