(cue thought-provoking serious music)
Tomorrow, I run.
I've been training for a couple of months, adding 30 seconds more running here, walking 30 seconds less there and the first Monday after I got back from My Paddleboarding Adventure, I knew I had to leave the dog in the crate and see how far I could go, so that I would have some idea of how deeply I might be embarrassing myself on Saturday.
I don't think I slept two hours in a row Sunday night. I kept waking up with dread, thinking I'm going to try to run and I'm going to DIE a quarter mile in. Fear and dread! Anxiety and trepidation!
And it went...
well. Surprisingly well. I walked my normal five minute warmup, and started to run. I promised myself that I would stop when I felt physically unable to continue.
I kid you not, I became Forrest Freaking Gump. I didn't run for 3 years, 2 months, 14 days and 16 hours, but I ran about 25 minutes without stopping. Without throwing up. Without a side stitch!
And I felt like I could've run more if I'd needed to.
I did feel like I was in early shin splints, but that wore off with some ibuprofen and some rest. I planned to do this run-until-I-can't one more time before race day.
And my schedule went all to hell. Did not get to run again until this morning, and I sure didn't want to run two days in a row, but I'm going to. Did the 5 minute warmup, which is probably just under a quarter mile and ran all but the last 2 tenths of TWO miles. My left ankle complained a lot at first and then shut the hell up. In short, in the words of Gwen Stefani, I am hella positive for real.
But, good dress, bad show as the actors say.
Say your prayers for me tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I run.
I've been training for a couple of months, adding 30 seconds more running here, walking 30 seconds less there and the first Monday after I got back from My Paddleboarding Adventure, I knew I had to leave the dog in the crate and see how far I could go, so that I would have some idea of how deeply I might be embarrassing myself on Saturday.
I don't think I slept two hours in a row Sunday night. I kept waking up with dread, thinking I'm going to try to run and I'm going to DIE a quarter mile in. Fear and dread! Anxiety and trepidation!
And it went...
well. Surprisingly well. I walked my normal five minute warmup, and started to run. I promised myself that I would stop when I felt physically unable to continue.
I kid you not, I became Forrest Freaking Gump. I didn't run for 3 years, 2 months, 14 days and 16 hours, but I ran about 25 minutes without stopping. Without throwing up. Without a side stitch!
And I felt like I could've run more if I'd needed to.
I did feel like I was in early shin splints, but that wore off with some ibuprofen and some rest. I planned to do this run-until-I-can't one more time before race day.
And my schedule went all to hell. Did not get to run again until this morning, and I sure didn't want to run two days in a row, but I'm going to. Did the 5 minute warmup, which is probably just under a quarter mile and ran all but the last 2 tenths of TWO miles. My left ankle complained a lot at first and then shut the hell up. In short, in the words of Gwen Stefani, I am hella positive for real.
But, good dress, bad show as the actors say.
Say your prayers for me tomorrow.
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