My long run this week was a 5 to 6 miler. I wanted to put in 6 miles, but I figured I would listen to my body while I was running to determine what distance I would end up with. Next week I’m supposed to cut back to 3 miles, so really if I ran 5 I’d have some leeway in the training for a 6 miler next weekend.
I thought there was a chance of rain on Sunday, so to get rid of any silly weather excuse to run outside, I switched it up and headed out Saturday for my run. It was about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and I was tired from being up early that morning and putting hours in at work. Even though it was a beautiful day outside, I just did not feel like running.
However, I knew that I wouldn’t feel bad after the run so I changed and tied up my running shoes, grumbling to myself the whole time about not wanting to run.
I ended up with 5.25 miles in 47 minutes. Not too shabby. A good pace (about 9:30 miles) for a good run. That’s how it is a lot of times with me though. I just do not want to start the run. I see the miles looming before me, and I mentally talk myself out of the run. Which is why I’ve never done a full marathon yet. The idea of 18 and 20 mile training runs by myself just wouldn’t ever happen. At least not at this point in life anyway. I need a running buddy for that (Any one up for a fall marathon this year? Anyone?)
That’s how life is though, isn’t it? We might know how we’ll feel after we do something. We can see the rewards and the good that will come from it, but we just don’t want to start.
Today is Monday. Oh that dreaded Monday. But it’s a start to the week. What would happen if we just had the courage to start joyfully this week? To start the one thing we’ve been saying over and over that we’ll do next week.
Courage is a lovely thing. We all have it. Even though I grumbled as I tied my left shoe string, I heard the little whisper saying, you know once you start, you’ll just keep going.
That was my courage talking.
And it kept whispering to me as I checked off mile after mile.
