Two miles. I’m up to two miles a day. Normally I would say, you’re out of your #$^&%@! mind to be running two miles a day. What’s a matter with you? You hate running. You hate it. But when it’s an integral part of a race, it kind of seems necessary. Essential even.
So it’s become part of my training regiment. A necessary evil. But that’s just me. There are hundreds of people who enjoy hitting the pavement at a brisk pace. Apparently some of my friends find it liberating. Rejuvenating. Calming. Stress relieving. A journey that clears your thoughts and centers your mind.
This does not happen to me.
Most people get to run in the morning. They wake up charged up and ready to go. However since my kids wake up at sunrise, and I’m not the greatest morning person, I’m never really in the wake up-charged up-ready to go kind of mood. I’m more in the holy-crap-I’m-exhausted-type-of mood.
I don’t get any “me” time until nine o’clock in the evening, when they’ve both gone to sleep for night. So my runs happen at night. Not a good place to let your guard down and feel calm or relaxed. No rejuvenation going on here. Just paranoia. Most of the time you’re extremely aware of your surroundings, making sure nobody comes out of the bushes and tries to slash you. However I do get a couple of daylight workout hours during the weekend. But I prefer to bike on those days. Bikes and nighttime traffic don’t really mix.
So I try to liberate, rejuvenate, and calm myself by walking, swimming or biking during weekend daylight hours.
Running. It’s not for everybody, but in my case it’s something that needs to be done. It’s step one on my path, a dreadful step one. But a very necessary one for success.
And for me, success in triathlons is the finish … making it to the finish. No need to be showboating and finish in first in the 35-40 chick category, the top three hundred is fine.
And what do I need to get there? Nonstop service from the starting line to the bike transition station. That’s the goal. So I’m just gonna cowboy up, lace up my shoes and hit the pavement. I dread thinking about it, even when I’m out the door I question myself. I question the insanity of running. But once I start, I keep going because I know it’s bringing me one step closer to my goal.
One step closer to not passing out when the running part is done. One step closer to not being that chick, you know, that chick that walks during the race. One step closer … that idea is all it takes for me to keep running in the dark. Night after night I think “one step closer.” And if there’s chocolate waiting for me at the end … well then I’ll run a little faster. Incentives rock when you hate step one.