Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

Oh, Kanye, you have a way with words, don’t you?

I’ve been running for just about 7 weeks now. It has been one hell of a trip, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t blog about it to look back on this time.

it all started about two weeks before my 30th birthday. I stepped on the scale and saw my highest non-pregnancy weight. I took a good, long look at myself and finally got the courage and motivation to do something about it. On April 1st I started tracking food and lost 15 pounds in about 7 weeks. Then the car accident happened and I stopped caring about everything until about mid-June. for some reason I thought I’d be a good idea to get back to tracking my food and start running. Not just running, mind you, training for a 5K. I don’t even know what came over me.

so here I am, seven weeks later with my race just on the horizon. I haven’t been running long, but I’ve already learned a few things.

moost of all, running is a mind game. Most days I’m pumped before a run. I’m awake early, energized, and excited to see what improvements I have that day. Then there’s the internal conversation I have with myself during the run that starts positive “dude I could run a fucking marathon right now!” eventually creeps to the negative “I have to call Tim and get him to pick me up.” But at the end of each run, I can look at what I did and be proud of my accomplishment that day.

and then there are days like this weekend. I was set to do my long, easy run for the week, and I just couldn’t do it. I was dressed and ready to go, but I couldn’t get up. I was worried about pain. I was worried that I wouldnt finish. I thought about just dropping out all together. I finally did the run, but it was so slow, so painful. I came home and wanted to just cry and throw away my running shoes. I was unable to look at my past runs and see the improvements I’ve made over the last two months. I just wanted to get in bad and sleep until winter.

but today? Today was different. I set my alarm for 5:45. I had a small cup of coffee then dressed for the run. I knew it had to be done, so I did it. And I ran the furthest in the best pace (I’ve done further, but much slower, and faster but shorter distance). I came home feeling refreshed, which was mildly disappointing because I feel like that meant I could have pushed myself further. There was some pain during the run, but nothing that held me back. And now I feel like I’m back on track and ready for my race next week.

so I haven’t said this next part to anyone other than Tim and my sister, but here goes: if I survive my race, I will start training and preparing for a thanksgiving 10k. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m thinking.

11 days until race day. I won’t be the fastest one there (by a long shot) but I’ll be lapping everyone on the couch!


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