I'm in Colorado for work and lucky enough to be staying with my sister. Today was a gorgeous sunny and 65degree day, perfect for a run outside. So, after much discussion over where to run, we decided to head to the river where there was a five mile path along the river with distance markers along the way. A rolling run for me and a nice place for my sister to walk with my sisters.
As I started out on the run I was prepared to go to distance marker 20. The markers were in 1/10 of a mile intervals and I would run two miles, turn around and meet my sister back at the beginning, getting in a good 4 miles.
Marker 1 came slowly, marker 2 even more so...I didn't know why I was running so slowly. I was having a mental argument with myself, convinced that I was running so slowly my sister, walking at the pace of a 2-year old, would soon be nipping at my heals.
The markers came and went while my discouragement only built. What had I eaten to make me so slow? I changed my workout schedule and was paying the price. I would never be able to make it four miles today and over and over I tried to convince myself to stop and turn around early.
Finally, I was away from the river and entering an industrial park near marker 15. The microchip in my brain recorded the following argument: "I am pathetic, unable to make it even two miles. I should just call my sister and have her pick me up. I didn't bring my cell phone. The sun will set and they will think I'm lost. This is why I always know the destination when I run! What was I thinking just 'going with the flow'!?" Then, I burst into tears while still running.
Finally at marker 15 I conceded, turning around while still crying and telling myself that at marker 8 I could stop running and walk the rest of the way because stress while running would simply cause injury. As I was nearing the walking reprieve, I asked a woman beside me for the time. 5:55pm and I had begun at 5pm. With a sigh I then asked "and these markers are for just 1/10th of a mile, right?" She began to laugh. "Oh no, Honey," she replied, "that's a quarter mile."
She laughed on her way and I tried to pry my chin off my still running chest. Calculations ensued. I had already finished 5 miles, the same length as my long run from Sunday. I still had 2.5 miles to get back to the car.
As tired as I was, I was excited. Knowing this changed the way I thought of the entire run. I wasn't slow, I was superwoman. I'd run 5 miles in 55 minutes! If I kept going I would run a quarter marathon and I still have 7 weeks of training!
I finally finished my run at 7 miles. Having met my sister at marker 5 (and yes, she was wondering where I had been.) I walked with her the last half mile to cool my aching body down. 7 miles. 75 minutes. My best run yet.
I find it amazing how quickly a mind can shift from tears to joy, from calling itself "wussy wanna-be" to "serious superwoman" in a matter of seconds. Had I gone out today to run 7 miles (and mind you I was trying to get people to tell me I didn't really have to run the four.) my mindset would have been different from the beginning and I would have saved myself frustration of 55 confused minutes. It might not have been easy but it would have been easier than beating myself.
What else do I beat myself up for that if I knew the facts, I would see I was exceeding my expectations, not failing them? What other markers am I passing where the mileage is just completely off? Hopefully there are less than there were a year ago but I know they still exist . This accidental run is a good reminder to beat myself up a little less and call myself superwoman a little more.
awesome post, sallie! and great job!
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