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.
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