|This is EXACTLY how I look when I forget my water bottle.|
|This is EXACTLY how I look. . . never.|
Today I tried to sabotage myself again. I set myself up for a run-fail because I knew I had to pick up my daughter from Girl Scout camp at 9 am. This cuts into half of my long-run morning, and I was prepared to blow off the Turtle run at 10 because I was sure my daughter would take forever to get ready to go and there would be traffic and snow and my car would break down and aliens would kidnap me and I would not be able to do it. It turns out that the same running gods who pushed me to PR at Shamrock also pushed me to get home by 9:21. Then I had a choice: Should I run the 3+ miles to the Turtle run, or should I hang out with the family and then drive to the run? The weather was cold, windy, and miserable. I accepted the challenge, strapped on the iPod and Garmin, and took off. This was one of those runs where every song seemed to mean something to me. In particular, I remember Adam Ant's "Is It Me or Is It the Medication?" and something by Mumford and Sons (everything by Mumford and Sons is really about me, you know). I managed the miles at about 9:21/mile, but I didn't feel good. (I just realized that my arrival time--9:21--is the same as my pace-per-mile. I swear that I didn't make these times up, and I JUST REALIZED that they are the same. The Universe is messing with my head!)
Later, running with the Turtles, I had some good moments. I enjoyed seeing so many people loving the run. I was happy to see David, whom I miss on the long runs. I had a great conversation about focus with Shelby, who noticed that I am battling demons. Maybe she was alarmed because I refer to my Voices with a capital V.
Anyway, I ended with 7.5 miles. That is a decent long run, which means I am not kicking my ass for not getting in a run today. I'm not even going to chastise myself for catching a ride back home with Deidre instead of running back. I feel satisfied; I feel that I did enough.
I've got to shake this. I don't want to believe that I lost my mojo. A wise woman (Dr. Ruth, I believe) once said, "Do it even if you aren't feeling it." I don't think she was talking about running, but I'll take that advice anyway.
The sun will come out tomorrow. . . ok, not in Ohio, but SOMEWHERE. When that happens, I want to be out running.