I just got a text from my friend about coffee later today, and the end of her text mentioned that it was a beautiful day for a run…and that’s exactly what I am thinking. The sun is out, much of the snow has melted, and the temperature is already close to 45 degrees.
I’m looking forward to my run for the first time in close to two weeks–yeah! It makes me feel like the old me is back…the person who started this journey, in part, because she loved to run…the person who loved to break through the barrier of awkwardness that is the first 2-3 miles of a run when rhythm, form and breathing are searching for comfort and who loved that feeling of bursting into that perfect zone that runners talk about and non-runners don’t understand.
My past few posts have been more about the struggle of maintaining the commitment to training and have been largely negative. That’s really not me. I’m no Kristin Chenoweth, but I like to think that I’m a pretty positive person and definitely the gal who will go on and on about running with a smile on my face and a desire to turn anyone I know toward the sport. That’s been missing from the last few posts, which is a shame, because that’s a big part of why I started this blog.
The truth is, no matter what, I love to run. It brings me peace and sanity. It connects me to myself, as silly as that sounds. It can be as simple or as complicated as you want it to be–either throw on some shoes and just get out the door for a few minutes, or agonize over playlists, running form, heel-striking and pace per mile endlessly until your husband wants to kill you.
The marathon training has tested my love for running, just as I thought it would. The commitment to a certain number of miles run at a certain pace, regardless of weather, has been a joy and a burden at the same time. Sometimes it’s taken the fun out of the whole thing, but at the same time, when (and it will be WHEN, not if) I show up at the starting line, I will know that no matter what happens, I did the hardest part already.
I logged those miles, on my own, when the couch looked inviting and no one was watching. When my enjoyment was at rock bottom and I was cussing at sweet old ladies shoveling their sidewalks, I kept moving–perhaps I looked like a crazy woman, shuffling along looking like a stuffed sausage with a hacked-off look on my face, but I kept going.
I am looking forward to running with less layers. Ooh, the prospect of a tempo 8-miler in capris and a short-sleeved shirt would be heaven right now! A tank and some shorts…I can’t imagine the bliss!
For now, a few less layers will keep me happy on today’s 13-miler. I got to have lunch with TiffeeG yesterday and had a long visit with my grandparents at the nursing home, which has me feeling much happier and less like a completely worthless family member. I’m having coffee with my good friend later, and HH will be back in town in time for dinner. It’s all good!
Today’s Famous Feet Friday runner is P. Diddy, who ran the NYC Marathon in 2003 with a fab time of 4:14:54.
Before heading out for my run, I have to share this quick video. I hope that we all can feel as good as this dog…I picture me feeling this way after a long run and TiffeeG feeling this way after her next Remicade treatment if it works. It’s only 15 seconds, so be sure to click on it and smile…happy weekend!