It’s been a while since I ran anywhere for a reason other than fire or emergency (like the man who was puking his guts up in the library… ran to get him a trash can). I don’t actually remember the last time I just got up and went for a run, which kind of makes sense. My running career has always been spotty. I’ve run in a few half marathons, and then I completely stopped running for a couple of years after each. At least I’m consistently inconsistent.
Anyway, this week marks the beginning of another running phase (I hope). I’m two days in with a hike on a third day, so I think it counts. What’s more, I actually woke up early to run before work this morning. That, my friends is monumental.
This is what I felt like, running along our dirt road, super grateful that the first half of the trek is mostly downhill:
But inevitably, the run ends with me feeling much more like this:
Glamorous, right? Even though I have ended both runs and the hike feeling like an out-of-shape doughnut-eating fool, I know that if I keep going out there, someday I’ll be able to run the whole way to the mailbox (0.7 miles, not just to the end of the driveway) and back the slightly uphill route without stopping or walking or wanting to die. I might even be able to run 13.1 miles again without wanting to amputate my legs from the knee down.
So yes, what I’m looking forward to is not wanting to die while working out. I could avoid that by not working out. That’s my approach for about 2-3 years of out every 4. I’m just hoping that my working out year is about to kick in. They’re fun while they last.