Ha! Not Dead, Yet.

Week 4, Day 1 did not kill me.  AMEN!


Important lessons were learned, though:


1. My friend who roped convinced me to train for the Run Like a Mother 5K ran yesterday and bloodied her socks after busting blisters.  She declared herself a "bad ass" and got a high-five from her husband for her efforts.  That is some serious motivation.  My friend, who seriously needs a moniker in this blog, has worked her bad ass off to lose weight and get in shape.  


There was a moment in my run this evening when all I wanted to do was stop and just ... well, stop.  Then she came to mind and I thought, "What the hell?  If she can run with bloody blisters, surely I can finish this interval."  And I did.  Go friend-who-needs-a-moniker!


2. My brother was right.  There.  I said it.  Tell my mother.  Tell my father.  Do not tell my brother or I will never, ever hear the end of it.  Just kidding.  He reads this blog.  I think.  YOU WERE RIGHT.  Running is fun.  


He sent me a copy of "Born to Run" and the part that popped in my head today was lesson two as described by Caballo Blanco: 

"Think Easy, Light, Smooth, and Fast.  You start with easy because if that's all you get, that's not so bad.  Then work on light.  Make it effortless, like you don't give a shit how high the hill is or how far you've got to go.  When you've practiced that so long that you forget you're practicing, you work on making it smoooooth.  You won't have to worry about the last one - you get those three, and you'll be fast."

There was a moment, or several moments, when I felt myself getting tense about running.  Track training takes years to drop, really.  Instead of thinking about my arms or my hands or my breathing, I clicked into "easy" and just ran simply because I could.  Gotta tell ya, it resonated like a revelation.  Running for the sheer joy of it feels good.


3. Something is changing within me.  For years and years, every time I broke into a run during a walk, I would tell myself it would be okay to quit "just past that mailbox" or "just past that car."  Typically, I would quit about 10 paces before the mailbox or the car.  I noticed it last run and this run cemented it, but I run past the promised mailbox, past the promised car, past the promised streetlight, and actually run until the nice lady voice on the C25K app says it is time to walk.


4. There is no good place to pee on a run.  Despite my best efforts to cease drinking an hour before running today and to, uh, take care of business before leaving the house, I still had to go about halfway through the run.  I want some serious credit for not knocking on random doors to beg for the good room.  


5. Girlfriend's got to have music.  The last two minutes of the final running interval, Slacker radio got stuck on an ad.  Note to self: Switch back to Pandora.  I was running, trying super hard not to wet myself, and the music stopped.  Suddenly I got stuck in my head.  All I heard were my feet and my breathing and mental words.  ACK!  Maybe someday I can be all zen and run without technology, but today is not that day.




So there.  I made it.  Thank you, Jesus, I did not die in a sweaty heap on the sidewalk.  I feel great, actually.  That's some fancy stuff, I tell you.