What is it about the middle of a run that makes me want to quit?
At the beginning, I’m euphoric: Yay! I’m running. Good for me! I’m getting out and getting some exercise! Woohoo! I’m kicking butt!
Ten minutes later: This sucks. I suck. Why is this TAKING so LONG? I can’t believe I’m going to have to do this for 13.1 miles this weekend. Ugh.
And, then afterward: Thank goodness that’s over. Hey, now I can eat another piece of banana bread!
There must be some chemical in a runner’s brain that erases the memory of the hard, painful, unfun (is that a word?) parts of running. Like moms and childbirth.
I ran during my lunch hour today. I almost didn’t go, which is why I texted Mel (you might have heard of her, Tall Mom on the Run) and admitted that. She agreed it looked totally gross outside, but she said she was going to go anyway. Darn it!
So I went. It was like running through ocean spray. I was instantly wet, which led me to wonder why I bothered to put makeup on or even blow dry my hair at 5:30 this morning. I could’ve slept in!
I wore my new Adidas tighty tight capris that I got for $10 at TJ Maxx a couple of weeks ago. I love the graphite color and the length; they end just below my knees exposing the best part of my legs in my opinion — my calves. The capris were okay. They don’t have the quick-drying ability like my long, black tights and I started to feel some rubbing in the thigh area at the end of my 3-miler, so I think they will be for short runs only.
I know I ran three miles today because I was careful to take the exact same route I took with Mel on our run last week. This time I stopped real quick a few times to take pictures of the cool wooden pathway over the marshy area. See?
I left at 11:41 a.m. according to my phone and I took it out again when I was done and checked: 12:12. I made a mental note to figure out how much time that was. Yes, I am that bad at math. Ask Zoë. Anyway, then I ran up the stairs to my desk to retrieve my day clothes, threw a frozen pizza in the microwave and went into the ladies room to change.
I took a quick picture in there so you could see my capris. I was going to take one of my hair after I removed my hat because I had total ’80s bangs for some reason, but I just knew someone would walk in and think I was nuts. I’d already taken too much time.
Back at my desk, I ate my pizza and got back to work. It wasn’t until about an hour later that I remembered to do my math problem. I scribbled on my work to-do list and my heart did a little dance of joy: 31 minutes! Oh my! That’s a 10:33 mile!
But it’s not. Not according to my mathamatically inclined self-proclaimed geek of a husband. Nope. (And after a little arguing and me saying, “But that’s too fast,” I finally believed him. Although, now I’m second-guessing Mel’s Garmin on whether or not that route is actually three miles.)
Three miles in 31 minutes is a 10:20 mile! Dude! Woohoo!
Makes me want to go running.