I hit a sad realization over the weekend: my arthritic hip won't let me attempt a half-marathon next month. After I ran-hiked an 8K on Saturday, the hip yelled at me all day and night, and I knew if I tried doing 13.1 miles on pavement, I would destroy what's left of it.So, I did what I considered the unthinkable: I dropped to the 5K.Immediately, I felt loss and like the character of Fran, in "Strictly Ballroom," the secretly talented ballroom dancer who is relegated to the beginner's group because no one realizes her ability -- until she meets a handsome, talented dancer who lost his partner. For me, running is Scott Hastings: the thing you want so much and who you hope will pick you.Running, once I was capable of it, was this challenging, yet gleeful feeling. I belonged! I could do it and fit in! I was so happy.Until reality and age settled in.Sorry, my brain is still processing all of this and I am feeling kind of shattered, still. I did sign up this morning to volunteer at the marathon finish line next month. It will not be the same, but will be better than not going.I haven't given up on running/hiking, because -- honestly -- nothing else will fill that void. I'll let you know when I figure this all out.

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