My family gathers for a reunion in Ft. Walton Beach, FL, every year in June. When I arrived at the beach last year, I had just completed my first-ever race, and was also seeing all my cousins for the first time in about a year ... a year, during which I had lost about 40 lbs. So, naturally, everyone wanted to talk to me about my visible changes and what I'd done to lose the weight, and when I mentioned running, I quickly learned/was reminded that there are a lot of other current and former runners in the family.
One of my cousins said something which has stuck with me, at least in paraphrase: "Some days [while running], you don't even notice you're doing it, and some days every step hurts." My response was basically, if every step hurts, I don't do it ... but now that I have my 50 races goal, if I'm getting close to a race date, I do sometimes feel obligated to run even when I don't really feel like it.
Now, there's running when I don't feel like it, but then once I'm doing it, it feels good, which is pretty much my normal state of mind because I'm a chronic procrastinator. (Honestly, I'm the same way about practicing my oboe. How I ever got to be a freelancer who actually gets gigs is beyond me.) But then, there's running when I don't feel like it because I'm sick or sore or over-tired and really don't feel like it. After a pretty inactive week last week, I really wanted to get some training in this week so that I would feel ready for this Saturday's race. I had a good run just after posting on Saturday, and then got out again on Monday morning. And this is where things went not-so-well: my lower back had been sore on Sunday, which I'd chalked up to too much standing around in heels during church, and the first maybe 3/4 of a mile of my Monday morning run felt fine ... and then it didn't. I kept going, at a slightly relaxed pace, through the rest of a 5K, but my back hurt kind of a lot by the time I was done, and stayed sore for the next few days. As a result, I've avoided running (and it's been pouring, anyway).
Coincidentally, DailyMile posted an article today about What to Do When Everything Goes Wrong in training. I definitely am guilty of beating myself up when I don't stick to my planned running schedule, and I think there's some advice there I could stand to follow. (Yes, I both procrastinate and beat myself up when I don't stick to my training. Relaxing hobby I've taken up, no?) Anyway, as I keep telling myself, I'm not running to win anything. I'm running to finish 50 races in 50 states. No one said anything about pace or times. Except when I say something about pace or times. And then remind myself that I'm only running to finish.
But, since I have a race this Saturday, I did want to get back out there and run this afternoon. I happened to have my annual physical yesterday, and my doctor indicated that running should actually be good for my back, so since I was free after work today and my back is feeling better and the race is in two days and the rain finally let up, I decided I would go for a run this afternoon. I came home, changed into my running clothes, had a little snack while watching an episode of The Daily Show on Hulu (because I was hungry and, you know, procrastinating a little) ... and promptly fell asleep as soon as the episode was over. This actually worked out, because another few rain squalls blew through in the next hour and I ended up finally feeling ready to run a little before suppertime, just as the sky was finally clearing for real.
Lucky for me, a new taco place just opened up in my neighborhood which offers cheap, fresh, tasty and relatively healthy tacos. By taking a circuitous route, I could stretch it out to a little over 3 miles from my house to there. And what better way to reward myself for finally getting out and running? Sure, the run itself, maintaining a healthy 9:12 pace with my back feeling good and my legs feeling strong, as the late-spring evening sunlight turned toward golden and the weather was warmish with a moderate breeze off the water, could have been considered reward enough.
But all that plus tacos? Even better.
I got three to go (one "green monstah" and two "fun guy"s), and walked home—which is actually only about a mile—in the golden sunshine, my take-out bag in hand, my running playlist still playing in my headphones. Not a bad way to wrap up my training for Race Number Five.
See you in New London on Saturday! And if I don't, you'll get to read about it here.
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