A Book Barn omen for my weekend 16 or my current mindset?
This week the training plan called for 16 miles.
Believe me, I really want to be like, "Yeah, 16 miles! No biggy. Been there, I can hack it." And then when it was done.... "Wow! 16 miles! It was so fun! awesome! [insert motivational enthusiasm here!]"
Hot. Humid. Alone in my head.
My first attempt at 16 was Saturday night. I made a double figure 8 like- loop route sticking within a 5ish mile radius of our house and left it up on the laptop screen so David knew where I would be. I wanted to try out my faux camelbak backpack hydration pack so I strapped it on and headed out.
Within a 1/2 mile my shoulders were already rubbing raw. (Note: only use hydration pack with a t-shirt, not great with with a Nike Tank) Back home for the fuel belt. When I got in the door I was sweating buckets and it wasn't going anywhere. I hadn't even gone a mile. It was so hot & humid, I aborted the mission and decided to go to bed with a second attempt in the morning.
Second attempt. Sunday, 4:30 am.
I'm up sans alarm and convinced myself that the only way I was going to make it to 26.2 miles in October (and to church on time) was by putting these miles in and that meant getting out of bed. Now.
Rather than re-map a route, I decided to keep the same one from the previous night even though I knew staying within 5 miles of the house felt like I could bail at any time. It was a risk.
Out the door and the morning was even more humid, but not as hot. At 3 miles I was really ready to call it quits and go back to bed. It was just so incredibly icky, soupy, soggy mess. I turned on one of the side streets and started to head back.
I was miserable. Miserable hot and miserable that I could even think of giving up so easily. And well, just miserable. (see silly game.)
Then I thought, "shoot, what if David needs me (even though it was 5am and why would he need me at 5am?! unless...well....but I mean in an emergency.), I'm not where I said I would be." So I got back on the route and debated just heading home via the last leg.
As I complained I figured I would just keep moving forward --- in the opposite direction, away from the place I so desperately wanted to be, where I craved to be, people and out of my own head, anywhere by here. Each complaint was answered with, "just to the end of this street, ok, to the next street." "Are your legs ok? Yes? Are you sore, no? Then keep moving."
About 9 miles in, I hit the end of the street with my second 5 mile loop + 2 miles home staring me in the face, I was ready one more time to turn around and just head the 2 miles home.
I started the loop.
I couldn't even look at the road in front of me.
I started to stare at my feet.
One step. Two step. One step. Two step.
I started to daydream about the this mirage, a water fountain I thought I saw during the first loop on the golf course next to the side of the road. Just 3 more miles confirm/deny said mirage.
It really was a water fountain!
I was at the end of the loop and on my way home. I found my yurbud I lost and spent a good searching for in the rain on Tuesday night! Huzzah!
And then on the hill up to my house, I look at my watch. I realized 16 miles just happened. 16 miles just happened???
3 hours of really, really hard happened.
I love running so much. I really, really wanted this run to help get me out of this running in place feeling in my head. I really wanted this run to make me feel complete pumped, ready to tackle anything. The run was more like something really, really hard with intermittent places of joy that I can latch on to and remember.
When I finished, I know there were 3 hours of hard, sure, but I what I really hold onto most are these 3 things:
- 1. It was important to be where I told David I would be.
- 2. I found water!
- 3. I found my lost yurbud!
When I am in it, when I am in that dark, horrible death spiral of discontent and it seems so incredibly hard to get out of it, I just want to turn back and crawl back under the covers. It is so easy to feel the hard. I want the things and the people that I love to pull me out of it. But I need to just keep moving. I need to do it. Me.
One step. Two step. One step. Two step.
And soon, the really, really hard happens, I am home and I chose to what to remember.