You know how I keep saying I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, re: running?
Well, it kind of did, on Sunday.
I woke up early-ish and went to go run. My legs were still and sore from the day before but, having not ever really taken rest days before, I thought to myself, Why start now? (YES I KNOW how foolish that is, in retrospect. But that’s the point of this entry. Don’t try to beat me to it. Ain’t nobody like that guy.)
So I went and I got started. And I did my usual speeds (6 for running, 4 for walking) throughout, until I got to the last 5 minute run before the cooldown. And you know what? I really didn’t want to do it. Like, really, really, really.
And so I didn’t.
I did 23 minutes out of 31 for the day’s program, still went as far distance wise and as much calorie wise as I had during week 3. Not a terrible showing. I decided to just not count the workout since I hadn’t completed it in its entirety.
But I felt so darn disappointed in myself.
I had stopped, for the first time.
I called my mom, who is a runner, and talked to her. She said to take my speed down a notch — that as the workouts increase in duration, they might need to decrease in speed and that for someone who is “not a runner” (AKA me), running at 6.0 might be a bit much at this stage in the game. She also told me to consider taking the rest days, doing yoga or crosstraining instead of running every day.
In the future, I do plan to use the rest days because she’s right: this is getting to be harder than it was for the first few weeks. But yesterday, I had to prove to myself that I could complete that workout just fine, just as I had on Saturday.
Down to the basement I went.
I did the three-minute running intervals at 6.0 and the five minute ones at 5.0. I completed the workout and then walked for a bit. I SLAYED that damn workout and am ready to tackle its next appearance the next time I head to the basement.
Feeling redeemed, I came upstairs and flopped onto my bed, screeching, “I DID IT.”
Tag-Along, ever supportive, cleaned every last bit of salt from my face and hair, then sat on my back.
Never underestimate the value of feline support. Unlike dogs, the lovable goobers of the animal world, cats don’t show you love unless you’ve damn right earned it.
Speaking of supporters — Chelsea started Couch to 5K yesterday! No doubt she’ll find it easier than I do, as she’s in much better shape. I’m really excited though – I love when we do things together!
And so there you have it: my story of both failure and redemption. In the future, I’ll go a little gentler on myself to make sure that I always complete the workouts when I attempt them.
Meanwhile, I’m still basking in the satisfaction of having climbed right back up onto that horse, and riding it to the finish line.