Fool's Errand

It seems completely impossible that I will be able to run 13.1 miles in just a matter of months. It seems just as ridiculous as trying to finish my thesis in two months and learning French in the same time. Why I do I set myself up for this kind of stress?

Tonight, I went on my first run outside in months (and by months, I mean I went on one run outside in the past two years). The wind was against me. The sidewalks were against me. I imagined what the people in every car that passed saw when they looked at me. A girl with a bright red fast, swinging her arms, bouncing up and down...a lot of effort to not go very far. I know when I drive by even the best runners I think how silly they look working so hard to not get anywhere very quickly. At least walking doesn't have the same appearance of overwhelming effort. And sure, I don't get anywhere when I'm on the treadmill, and the scenery is really boring, but that little screen with numbers makes me feel like I'm going somewhere. When I'm running outside that stop sign a hundred yards away seems like it's light years away.

I was fully committed when I stepped out this evening for my run. I knew where I'd go: the sidewalk in front of my apartment complex to the end of the street, cross the street and then continue on the road in front of the Coca-Cola building and other offices. Turn left at some random industrial street. Turn left on Fossil Creek. Up the grassy knoll. Onto the sidewalk. Veer back onto my original sidewalk. And then home. Voila!! I started pounding the pavement once I was infront of the Coke (haha) plant and felt good listening to my jams (Supertramp). And then the wind hit. Full blast. Against me. Pushing me. Agh, I'm going to die. No! I can make it. So I kept going. I hit a nice stride for about three minutes and then the wind hit me again. Growing breathless, I noticed a woman walking toward me. Well now I had to keep going. Make it look like I was a professional. We were going to pass within feet of each other. The nice thing to do was say hi. So as I got closer, I made eye contact and prepared to greet her. "Hugh...hhhh....hi....hhhh...huff...." Real professional.

Then the stop sign came into view. I could make it. I could make it. I couldn't make it. Slow. Walk. No! "Come on baby girl. You can make it." Running again. Wind hits again. Harder this time. Gah!!! I'm talking to myself now. If people were to see me they would think I was crazy. Expletives. This sucks.

I made it. But it was a lot of effort just to run to one stupid stop sign. Feeling kind of like I signed up for a fool's errand.

Thank you, Mr. Hare

Last night as I was falling asleep, I imagined myself waking up first thing and running. I almost felt so energetic about the idea that I believed I could have gotten out of bed and gone running right then. Well...not really. But it sounded good. So I drift off into a deep sleep filled with thoughts of running and floating across the pavement like a weightless nymph.

Alarm goes off, reality sets in...No. I don't want to get up. I'm tired. It has been a long week. I have a leg cramp. No. Not going to do it. No. No. No.

Well, let me eat first. I eat. And sit with my cat. She looks at me and says, "Let's cuddle." I say, "Oh what a good idea. Let's do it." So I cuddle the cat. Then I think, "OK, Tasha. Enough is enough. Get up and at least walk." So I go in the bedroom and I see a pile of clothes on the bed. They need to be folded. Reality sets in when I come across my jogging bra. OK. OK. I really need to go.

I head to the gym, dragging my feet through the door that was so kindly opened for me by a nice-looking man. Overly cheerful girl at the front desk greets me, "Have a great workout!" Yeah. Yeah. I head upstairs, pick a treadmill far away from other people and start walking. It's warm up time. Right as I'm about to up the speed, door holder from five minutes earlier hops on the treadmill next to me. I get nervous with people right next to me, especially when there were plenty other spaces to choose from. Then a girl gets on the other side of me. They both immediately start running. I look at the guy's treadmill. 7.5 MPH. Fine. To save myself from complete embarassment, I start running too. And right when I want to quit, I look over at both sides of me. They're still going. Fine. I'll still go too. After nearly 10 minutes, guy to my left stops. Gets off and walks away. After another minute, I slow to a fast-paced walk. The girl on my other side stops as well and walks away.

I keep going. Alternating running and walking as much as I can. I look around. No sign of Fast-runner male and Fast-runner female. I'm still going. Forty minutes after man sprints on treadmill, I'm still going. So thank you, Mr. Hare. Slow and steady really can win the race.

So....a half-marathon....sure

I am 25 years old. When I was 15, I remember, thinking, "Wow, I'll be an adult one day." It sounded so exotic. But now I just feel old. I sit most of the day at a desk, which hurts my knees. I go home, and because my legs are tired from sitting, all I want to do is sit. The rest of the time I'm working as a waitress standing the whole time (well most of it). So, what is the logical thing to do? Run a half-marathon!

Yeah!

Once I said I would do it, I figured I had to go ahead and register and pay and do that whole rigmarole or else I would never become a runner. A runner. That concept sounds so foreign to me. When I think runner I think of skinny girls with amazing legs sweating it out at all times of day in all types of weather. I think of that girl on the treadmill 10 feet away from me who seems to never stop. I want to be that girl.

After registering I thought, "Well, hey, I should go to the gym. Hit the fake moving ground running (it's too damn hot in Texas to run outside)." So I put on my new shoes and my new shirt and my new pants, and I headed to the gym. I bounded up the steps and chose a treadmill. I hopped on, walked for a few minutes, stopped, stretched, and upped the speed. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. This sucks. Breath in. Why did I do this? Breath out. I want to stop now. Breath in. You've only gone three minutes. Breath out. Yeah, but this is really awful. Breath in. You've got to do this. Breath out. Slow down. Look around. Nobody seemed to notice. OK. Well that was a valiant effort. Let's just walk for a bit and try again. Walk. Walk. Walk. Up the speed. Breath in. Breath out. Nope, I hate this. Stop.

OK, so I'll just hop on over to the elliptical. Let's just work on that stamina for a bit.