Maldives dragonflies cross the Indian Ocean every year. They fly at 3,000-foot altitudes. They spend 3,500 km of that over the open ocean.

Dragonflies are less than four inches long.

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The dragonflies can take four generations to make their migration, breeding in temporary pools of rain. Those pools might be there and might not when the dragonflies arrive.

I suppose they don't really know before they start, whether their children will make the crossing. Whether the rain will fall in time.

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Ever since I started running half-marathons, I understand so much better how far a kilometer or mile really is. Road signs take on new meaning when I can imagine myself running the four miles to the next turn-off: how long it would take, how I would feel at the end.

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Yesterday I ran a little more than four miles without realizing it. The Runkeeper app made it look like I would just be tempo running for 25 minutes, period. I thought about giving up when I realized my mistake - that the app wanted a warm-up and cool-down mile on either end. I wasn't in the mood to run very far. I kept going because I really wasn't concentrating on the how far part of it. I was trying to go fast.

When I got done, I thought about seeing the sign posted four miles before my usual interstate turn-off, how very far four miles always seemed when I just wanted to get home.

It's better not to know, not to see the whole distance before you start.

It's better not to wonder about the rain.

It's better, I suppose, to just cross the ocean.

Never give up. 

That is my philosophy. In writing and, it seems, in running.

I'm querying THE BIRTHRIGHT OF PARKER CLEAVES and BELLA EATS THE MONSTERS.

I just signed up for the Kansas City Marathon's Half-Marathon. It is in OCTOBER.

That should be warmer, right? 

If I just keep trying, I will eventually succeed. Because that is how it works.

OMG, it was so cold. Our car thermometer read 27 degrees when Beloved and the little angel dropped me off. I made my way down to the corrals, where we had to wait an extra 15 minutes or so because the traffic jam coming into the single entry-point was backed waaaay up. I was not happy with the delay, as that meant I spent my time stamping my feet and jumping up and down, wasting valuable energy.

I had some layer issues. When I did my shake-out run the day before, it was 18 degrees and windy, and one pair of running tights just wasn't enough. So to this half-marathon, I wore:

• 2 pair of socks (one compression, one wool)
• 1 pair of compression shorts
• 2 pair of running tights (one normal, one fleecy)
• 1 running tank bra
• 2 wicking long-sleeved shirts, one with a hood
• 1 long-sleeved tee
• 1 thin waterproof windbreaker for when it started snowing
• 1 neck gaiter
• 1 hat
• 1 pair of thick running gloves
• 1 water bottle (I always carry my own water)

I was okay except for my feet in the corrals. My right foot toes started to go numb before they released us, which was troubling. Then FINALLY we started. As we were taking off out of that single entry point, I saw swarms of unhappy runners walking in from the line of cars still waiting to turn in. I don't know if those guys went ahead and ran or not, but they probably did because a) it was a chip race, so the only thing that mattered was when your chip crossed the lines and b) I saw some incredibly fit-looking people finishing a half hour after I did. As I ran, I felt happy I was not one of those late people.

About two miles in, there was a steep hill. They had a start and finish line for the King and Queen of the Mountain. I saw some people really going for it, and I thought they were crazy to blow so much energy so early in the race. I, of course, also started out too fast, but at that point, I was so cold I had to move as fast as I could to avoid freezing solid to the highway.

When I got up the hill and then down the hill, I noticed something. I was ACTUALLY OVERHEATING. I felt awful. I stopped to try to get my neck gaiter off, and it got tangled up in my headphones and then they popped out of my ears and the little special ear thingies that keep the headphones in my ears fell off. I started cursing a blue streak as my cold fingers struggled to get the ear thingies back on and the headphones back in my ears. I ditched the gaiter and took off my hat and gloves. I have no idea how long that all took, but long enough. I was PISSED. 

After about three miles with no hat (my hair, oh my bedheaded, sweaty hair! so sexy) and no gloves, I started to feel better. And then I had to pee. Not terribly, but the way you have to pee when it is 27 degrees and you have been running for an hour. A port-a-potty appeared, and I remember how bad it was in my last half when I had to pee at the end of the race, so I sacrificed another 90 seconds or so to peel down four layers of bottoms and do the business.

Wearing more clothes than Shakira owns and really, this is so not flattering.

I actually felt more gross at this point than I expected to. I think the overheating thing was not good, especially in the face of it being below freezing. I was still pretty hot, so I stopped again to remove my armband/phone, take off my windbreaker, tie it around my waist and put my armband thing back on. I was chewing two sports beans about every 10-15 minutes at this point, because any time I run for more than an hour I start to feel dizzy if I don't get some nutrients. I fought off side stitches for probably the middle 5-6 miles, but thankfully they never went full-blown.

Despite all these issues, I really enjoyed the course. I saw a few hawks and falcons and the water and woods were pretty. I have biked around this area plenty of times. It's nice and flat for much of the course with some very slight rolling hills. The area around my house where I train is hillier than this pretty course was.

At the 10-mile mark, there was another hill, and I decided to walk through the water station and up most of the hill. My theory was that I would gun it down after and not stop again until the finish (hubris). I saw a sign that said, "Mom, Run faster, I'm cold." I thought that was really sweet. I was almost on top of MY OWN DAUGHTER HOLDING THE SIGN when I realized Beloved and the little angel were watching me walk my ass up the hill. I was so embarrassed. But the sign was awesome.

I rallied after seeing them and slogged my way through until mile 11, when my feet went completely numb. It is hard to run with numb feet. I was seriously concerned about turning an ankle and being left for dead on the highway. A few times I had to stop and stamp my feet to try to get some feeling back in them. All around me, people seemed floating along effortlessly. This hurt. I trained my ASS off for this race. I have never worked so hard. But the end result felt the same. I was dying, and mile 12 was way more walking than I wanted it to be. I kept willing myself to run faster and more, but my brain totally checked out when my feet went numb. I wish I could write a glowing review of my performance, but really I was pretty embarrassed and sad that I didn't beat the time from my first race. It was the EXACT SAME TIME. How does that even happen? But it was.

After I finished, I had to find Beloved and the little angel, who had abandoned the car and were walking toward me from where they had to park out past the 8-mile mark (the course doubled back on itself). I almost started crying when I realized my phone was dying and I didn't know where my family was and I was so, so cold and soaked in sweat and wrapped in a piece of mylar. The feet I still could not feel were attached to legs that could only hobble, and y'all, I felt forty in every bit of my bones.

But then! I saw them! Beloved gave me the outer shell of his ski coat and the little angel asked me why I was wrapped in a balloon and we walked for twenty minutes to get back to the car. At the side of the car, I took off the windbreaker and the long-sleeved cotton tee and the two long-sleeved wicking tees and it seriously felt warmer standing there in a tank top that was not wet. We climbed in the car and the heat was on and it was the best moment of my life when the heat hit my cold fingers.

Then the little angel asked to see my medal and Beloved said he was proud of me and then later Pa said he wished he had the gumption to do something like that and I remembered it's not about whether I'm getting faster or whether I look cute in my running clothes.

It is about staying in the game of life for as long as I can, as strong as I can. And I finished. Thanks to everyone who offered encouragement here and in social media and on Runkeeper. It really does help.

The week after I got back from BlogHer '14, I started training for the Longview Half-Marathon. Which is tomorrow.

And tomorrow there is this:

JACKSON:

...WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY IN EFFECT FROM 6 AM SATURDAY TO
MIDNIGHT CST SATURDAY NIGHT...

THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE IN KANSAS CITY/PLEASANT HILL HAS
ISSUED A WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY FOR ACCUMULATING SNOW... WHICH IS
IN EFFECT FROM 6 AM SATURDAY TO MIDNIGHT CST SATURDAY NIGHT.

* LOCATION...ALL OF NORTH-CENTRAL MISSOURI AND NORTHEASTERN KANSAS.

* TIMING... SNOW WILL OVERSPREAD THE REGION AFTER DAYBREAK ON
SATURDAY. SNOW WILL THEN CONTINUE THROUGH MUCH OF THE DAY BEFORE
TAPERING OFF BY LATE AFTERNOON OR EARLY EVENING.

* SNOW ACCUMULATIONS...A GENERAL 1 TO 3 INCHES OF SNOW IS EXPECTED
ACROSS THE REGION. ISOLATED HIGHER AMOUNTS MAY BE POSSIBLE ALONG
AND SOUTH OF THE MISSOURI RIVER.

* IMPACTS...ACCUMULATING SNOW AND REDUCED VISIBILITIES WILL RESULT IN
HAZARDOUS TRAVEL ACROSS THE REGION THROUGH MUCH OF THE DAY.

PRECAUTIONARY/PREPAREDNESS ACTIONS...

A WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY MEANS THAT PERIODS OF SNOW...SLEET...OR
FREEZING RAIN WILL CAUSE TRAVEL DIFFICULTIES. BE PREPARED FOR
SLIPPERY ROADS AND LIMITED VISIBILITIES...AND USE CAUTION WHILE
DRIVING.

And I really, really, really hate being cold.

However. I followed a for-me really hard training program for four months. I only missed one of the training runs in all that time. I ran thirteen miles twice. I ran fourteen miles twice. I ran tempo runs. I ran sprint intervals. I ran up the hills and down the hills, and dammit, I am running 13.1 miles tomorrow come hell or high water (which, you know, could happen).

My plan is to pretend to be Rocky training in Russia. The little angel advised me to wear a lot of lotion. The polar vortex was supposed to wait until November 16 to start. It did not listen.

So, um, wish me luck? I'll be the one wearing 30% more clothing than everyone else and paying absolutely no attention to the 20-degree rule.

After I get above eight miles, my mind starts to wander. 

I've discovered while training for half marathons how much your mind can disconnect from what your body is doing. There are times when it's too hot and my legs are too heavy and my lungs are bursting and I feel my mind slamming on the brakes, ready to override my desires with heat exhaustion, if necessary, to make this crazy 40-year-old woman stop running in the heat.

There are times when my legs are fine and the euphoria sets in and the air is so awesome to breathe I want to stop and tell other people do you taste this air? Isn't this air unbelievable?

Lately the temperature's been dropping. My vision no longer gets swimmy on big hills. I don't have to press pause on Runkeeper and pant like a dog in the shade after a big uphill. And above eight miles, I have all sorts of crazy thoughts.

I just read THE INFINITE SEA by Richard Yancy. It's the second in a dystopian end-of-the-world series that does a particularly nice job of being a dystopian end-of-the-world series, in a similar way to Dexter doing a particularly nice job of being a good serial killer. Really entertaining and well paced plot but also gets the job done showing the uglier side of humanity: how we make choices, how we weigh one life against another.

Ever since I read UNDER THE DOME by Stephen King, I've been having trouble swatting flies. The metaphors have invaded Missouri.

As I run, all the latest books swim together in my head along with the plotlines of my own writing and my own life. I think (in my running-induced euphoria that can sometimes beget delusions of grandeur) that if only I could somehow write and run at the same time I could solve some proof of humanity simply by analyzing various forms of pop culture and running them against current events divided by the number of times the Gaza Strip has been bombed and squared by the population of China. 

That would be it: The answer to why we are the way we are.

It was probably around mile nine when I noticed a large bug ambling across the sidewalk in front of me. I wasn't sure exactly what kind of bug it was, probably a beetle of some sort, but it smacked of warm-weather bug. Not-gonna-survive-the-frost kind of bug. 

And it was really cold that day. 

I started stirring all the end-of-the-world dystopian plotlines and honestly wondered if the bug was contemplating whether or not this would be his last day on earth. Could the bug know about dewpoints? Frost?

I skirted around the bug, because if he was going to die, I didn't want to be the cause of it.

I wondered how high the oceans would have to rise to flood Kansas City.

The air tasted amazing.

And I ran on. 

I felt silly going to the doctor. While I was in the ultrasound room, though, with the lady checking all along the big vein or artery or who knows what from my groin to my ankle and frowning and highlighting things and thumping my calf and listening to my pulse, my heart raced and I had to consciously breathe. So even though it will be a needless expense, maybe it wasn't a needless expense. 

In the end, this doctor trip was more for my anxiety disorder than my leg, though. No blood clot. Just #catastrophize.

I have, however, run 11 miles since the doctor, so there's that.

In mid-April, I ran a half-marathon. A few weeks later, I developed a stress fracture. Since then, I've been building back up from that. I had a boot for two weeks, then I got out of the boot and was only able to run a mile and that mile gave me pain, so I cut back to an even more conservative plan that had me building up from three cycles of 9 minutes walk/1 minute run to today's final six cycles of 5 minutes walk/5 minutes run. After a rest day tomorrow, I should be able to run three miles for the first time in more than a month on Friday. I want to get going again. I've signed up for another half-marathon in November. I'm tired of babying my feet.

Except now my calf hurts. And my friend and co-worker Diane just got diagnosed with a blood clot. And all I can think about is that this a blood clot, even though when I used my foam roller, my calf was ridiculously tight, and there's every reason to believe I've been overcompensating on that leg whether I realize it or not. And when I found a lump in my breast it hurt so bad the day before the mammogram and not at all the day I was cleared as "normal." And the lump in my leg throbbed until it came out and I discovered it was a harmless lipoma and no other lump in my leg (and there are many) hurts because I assume now they are all lipomas.

So I'm going to my doctor tomorrow morning to have what is in all liklihood a muscle sore from being really worked again after a month or so of lighter workouts checked out to make sure I'm not going to drop over dead. Because that is where my anxiety goes -- straight to dead. Rational? No. Logical? No. But if I let myself think about a blood clot for more than five minutes, my chest goes tight and I feel like I can't breathe, and then I wonder if it's a panic attack or a pulminary embolism from my blood clot that I probably don't have. And even if I do have one, Diane has one and is most certainly not dead, and I won't be dead, either, because I will take the medicine and everything will be fine.

So far, the tightness in my chest has not been a pulmonary embolism. It is totally anxiety, which can be a tremendous bitch.

But I'm going to the doctor, more for my anxiety disorder than for my calf. This is what I do now, at forty. I do not try to convince the anxiety disorder that things are no big deal. I just go get facts, and most of the time, things really are no big deal. But I no longer wait around to see if the cat throwing up means anything special or if the lump in my breast is a cyst or breast cancer. I just go and let a professional person tell me what is the what.

Then, on Friday, assuming there is no blood clot, I'm going to RUN.

YOU GUYS, I DID IT! I can hardly believe it. Click here if you want to read about it. This isn't really a running blog and I don't do timed splits or personal records or tempo run reviews. I mostly just try not to pee myself too bad while running.