Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Shamrock Nerves
Just once I'd like to feel ready for a race. Unfortunately, I'm staring down the barrel of the Shamrock Run this Sunday wondering why on earth I talked myself into this!?! I've been on exactly two runs in a month. The first was my little two miler, the second was about 4 and involved a lot of huffing and puffing. The Shamrock is 4.9. WHY didn't I sign up for the 5k? Ack! In addition to my runs I've been doing a lot of walking in prep for walking the Eugene Half Marathon in May, but how much does walking really help for running a race? I'm guessing not much. I've been comforting myself with the idea that I can always walk part of the race if I really need to, but in looking over the website tonight I see that no walkers are allowed. I'm really hoping that doesn't mean the Leprechauns blow whistles at you and point if you need a breather, because if it does I might as well go straight to the Beer Garden and skip that pesky running altogether. I don't even like beer, but hey. Once again, I am so over my head. All I really wanted was the sweatshirt!
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
She's back
I feel like I lost an entire month of this year to sickness. One after the next we were sick in my house and this darn bug is hard to shake. This week I finally woke up and felt like I had the strength to go for a run. For most people this would result in putting on shoes, lacing them up, and having a nice little jog in the spring sunshine. Unfortunately, this is not how my disfunctional brain normally operates.
Even though I wanted to run, I didn't. Please don't ask me why. If I could figure that part of me out I would be fit, thin and my house would always be neat. My children would always put the lid on the toothpaste and I would have systematically taught them self discipline so that no one ever fails to clean up after themselves. The reality is that I'm a bit lazy and I struggle against it constantly. Well, actually that's not true. A lot of the time I just give in to it. haha!
So anyway, I spent all morning yesterday trying like mad to talk myself into going for a run. I had just about given up when *ding dong* the doorbell rang. It was Tricia, my running partner and great encouragement. She brought me a half marathon training plan, pulled from a magazine, and off she went. It was exactly what I needed. I stood there in my messy, oversized pajama pants and a giant t-shirt, hair every which way and zero makeup and thought, what the heck am I doing?!? So I threw on some running pants and my shoes, yanked my hair into a pony tail and hit the road. I ran 2 miles and felt like the queen of the world. 2 miles isn't much, but it was perfect for my first day out all month. I didn't have to walk, I found my groove, and I felt so darn good when I was finished.
Why do I fight myself so hard sometimes? It's like I have a self destruct mode or something, I don't know. I guess the important thing is that I keep picking myself up and dusting myself back off.
Even though I wanted to run, I didn't. Please don't ask me why. If I could figure that part of me out I would be fit, thin and my house would always be neat. My children would always put the lid on the toothpaste and I would have systematically taught them self discipline so that no one ever fails to clean up after themselves. The reality is that I'm a bit lazy and I struggle against it constantly. Well, actually that's not true. A lot of the time I just give in to it. haha!
So anyway, I spent all morning yesterday trying like mad to talk myself into going for a run. I had just about given up when *ding dong* the doorbell rang. It was Tricia, my running partner and great encouragement. She brought me a half marathon training plan, pulled from a magazine, and off she went. It was exactly what I needed. I stood there in my messy, oversized pajama pants and a giant t-shirt, hair every which way and zero makeup and thought, what the heck am I doing?!? So I threw on some running pants and my shoes, yanked my hair into a pony tail and hit the road. I ran 2 miles and felt like the queen of the world. 2 miles isn't much, but it was perfect for my first day out all month. I didn't have to walk, I found my groove, and I felt so darn good when I was finished.
Why do I fight myself so hard sometimes? It's like I have a self destruct mode or something, I don't know. I guess the important thing is that I keep picking myself up and dusting myself back off.
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