Right before I left this blog, I had some great posts planned. I went through and deleted most if them. Every once in a while, I found a great blurb and saved those to share with you. Here’s one such rant:
This may come as a shock to some of you, but I’m going to say it.
I hate running.
Hate is such a strong word. How about despise? Detest? Dislike?
There. I feel much better now.
Of course, it’s a lie. I love running. I never feel so alive as when I’m running.
But not right now. Not at all. I find myself dreading it. I can’t get up in the morning. I put off the run all day. I use meaningless tasks to delay running until “later,” and that time never comes. Trust me…I have procrastination down to a science. Even as I write this, I probably should be out running. If I do get out there, I complete the scheduled warm up, and bag the rest.
Did you see it? That evil word in the last sentence? The bane of my existence?
And therein lies the problem.
So what was it? The speed workouts were killing me. I’d see one on my schedule, dread doing it, and skip the run all together. If I wasn’t meeting someone to run, I wasn’t running. At all.
I spent a few nights thinking about my long-term goals. The Boston Marathon. How cool would…Wait! Boston? Whose goal was that? Surely not mine. When did I decide that I wanted to be fast? Or more…who put the idea in my head that fast was the only way to measure success?
Fast is nice.
Slow is nice too.
Running is amazing.
Skipping workouts is neither.
I threw out my schedule, and left the races I was already committed to on the calendar, with a few key (distance) workouts, to ensure I’d finish with a smile. Then I headed towards the woods. And I emerged differently…much like the Phoenix…but not quite so dramatic. I was covered in mud, had to strip in the parking lot, and drive home in a towel. But I was smiling. And laughing. And praying I didn’t get pulled over.
For about a month, I’ve been back. Running almost every day. But it’s different. Peaceful. Calm. I’m in love all over again. With the woods, but most of all, with me. With what my body shows me it can do. So I’m going to push it…not hard, or forceful. I’m going to let it lead me. No schedules. No coaches yelling in my ear. No guilt. Just running.