Down to single digits--how insane! Terrifying, exciting, nerve-wracking--all at the same time!
I mentioned "The Misfits" in several posts throughout my blogging history, including the one for day 10 on the countdown. One of these Misfits, in particular, gets her own day to herself.
In January of 2011, I had given up hope of ever feeling content here in NC. I had accomplished great things, enjoyed my job, and was becoming healthier, but I was lonely. After some serious self-reflection and a few therapy sessions on the sofa upstairs with Meg, I realized that this loneliness was self-inflicted as I was engaging in a behavior that in therapy we call "Compulsive Repetition." Without any psychotherapy mumble jumble, in short what it means is that the unresolved issues that we have within us, we continue to consciously and subconsciously resolve by recreating these situations in our lives--but until we realize it, we continue recreate this negatively, rather than conquering it. For myself, this translated into developing one-sided friendships where there was no reciprocity, and I was allowing myself to be used. I chose to internalize a message that "I am not worthy of a healthy/positive friendship," and I compulsively validated this through my choices. Upon recognizing this, I decided instead of continuing this clearly unhealthy pattern, I would just NOT have friends. Obviously this was the answer right?
We had just hired a new girl at work--I didn't know anything about her except that she turned red easily & had a son. Meg had asked me to help her out with some administrative responsibilities and I begrudgingly agreed. While visiting with the new, red chick, she mentioned that she'd heard that I ran and that she would like to run with me sometime. "I've heard this before," I thought to myself--and dismissed it. Again a week or so later, she said it. Again, I dismissed it. As I had decided not to have friends, I had a lot of alone time and spent some time thinking, and decided I would let her know my running schedule and if she choose to join me, she could--but I was not putting myself out there to actually offer an invitation because she could say no, and I could not handle that rejection. I texted her my run plans for the week, and got a text back saying she wasn't going to be able to join because of other obligations and her spin class she planned to attend. "There goes that," I thought to myself and moved on.
Much to my surprise, I got a text back later that day. She said she decided to skip spin and wanted to join me on a trail run, and wondered if she could bring her dog. My response was "As long as I don't have to touch it." The next morning, I drove out to Bur Mill and got out to stretch. Her car wasn't here and I knew exactly what that meant: a text would be coming saying that she couldn't run and I would be flying solo. I wasn't even disappointed because I had such low expectations of others, the perfect way to avoid hurt and disappointment, right?
And then I saw a silver VW pull in, and she waved. Her doofy-looking dog jumped out of the car and we set off to do a 5 mile run. This was the first time in my life that I used an athletic activity to get to know a person, and over the course of the next 5 miles, we spent plenty of time sniffing, spitting (it was cold out-it was Feb!), and talking.
This was the beginning of a new chapter in life. This 5 mile run turned into a couple more runs, and a plan to train for a half-marathon together, and Friday carb-loading nights before our runs, and movie nights, and meeting her family, and meeting her extended family, and a road trip to Wilson, and sharing tears and heartache, and laughing hysterically about step-fathers, and meeting her crew (the Misfits) and me finding security, finding happiness, finding home. 
Crizzly Bear, mile 9 is for you--the only thing that would make Mile 9 better would be running it alongside of you (and miles 1-8 and 10-26.2, as well). I can't wait to do our next half together.
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