And So I Begin Again

On Dec. 9th, M and I will be joining our first race together, a 12K trail run. On one hand, yipee - a chance to run together! On the other hand, ever since the half-marathon, I haven't felt great while running. It's as if the week that I took off while sick took not only the stamina but also the willpower out of me. The first two miles have always been the hardest for me and when the second one is going straight uphill, it's just about enough to make me whimper with frustration. I'd get going and just not want to keep going. If it weren't for my running friends, and my desire not to appear like a total wuss, I'd be down to running 25 minutes at a time.

So, today, I thought, let's just see if I can go for a nice, relaxed five miler. Don't try to set any land speed records, just try to get through it without stopping to walk. How I ever made it through 13.1 miles is really beyond me. I mean, I remember running the distance, I recall crossing the finish line and that bizarre feeling in my legs when I finally stopped. But since then, I haven't felt like I could push beyond 4 miles.

That was then, this is now.

As predicted, about 20 minutes into the run, I just wanted to go home. But the stubborn and persistent side of me took over and and kicked me in the behind. It was an out and back route, just the right thing for a negative split challenge. Miraculously, my legs finally hit their stride, as did my breathing. Bless those endorphins: I felt quite good on the way back. It helped that the final quarter-mile is downhill and I could focus on lengthening my stride with gravity on my side. I slowed down to a walk, hit my timer, checked my heart rate.

Good numbers - a bit of confidence restored.

Next weekend: kick it up to 6 miles on the long run.