Monday, September 26, 2016

I had such great intentions

I'm good at making plans. In July I mapped out the rest of my running schedule for the year. It seemed perfectly reasonable to be able to run 6 miles by the end of August, and do a few 10-milers in September in preparation for my fall halfs. Instead I went on another vacation, I relaxed a lot, I enjoyed my free time, and now it's almost October.

Getting back in running shape is sooooooo hard. A big part of me wants to throw in the towel and say my running life was a lot of fun and I have a ton of great memories, and move on to the next chapter. Then I look at my Piggie medals and try to convince myself that it's worth it, that somehow I WANT to run six days a week, that I WANT to be tied to a calendar, that I WANT all my free time devoted to running above all else. It's a hard sell. For what? So I can run upstairs with a basketful of laundry and not be out of breath? For a few t-shirts and medals? I'm not convinced it's worth it anymore.

I've already registered for and paid for a half this Saturday and another in November. This first one is going to be miserable. My foot has FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY stopped screaming with every step I take on it. (My calves are teetering on the edge of charlie horses though....) I'm slow, it's not fun right now. I'm wishing I hadn't registered for this one. First world problems.