I usually write my blog posts at night. I have more time, it’s easier… And well, I can sleep on it before hitting publish. But today, I’m choosing not to sleep on it and just be honest.
Anyone who follows me on daily mile knows yesterday was not a good run day. Sure I got in a solid 5 miles, but I let another runner’s attitude get in my head and I was just mentally over everything. I slogged through the miles and finished thinking “about time that’s over” rather than my usual “see, you’re glad you did that”.
So I was a little shocked when getting up was easy today. I didn’t want to lay around in bed I just wanted to get out there and have a do over. I planned on switching up my route and just running. No plan for pace or intensity, 4-6 miles of whatever I felt like doing.
Yet from the moment I hit start on my watch I was done. At about the 3/4 mile mark I looked at my watch and realized while I felt like I was running at an decent/usual pace… I was not. I was slow. Like really slow, even for me. That’s about the time I was really done. I told myself I could do this. I could manage 4 miles at least… But no.
I hit pause and walked… I tried to give myself a pep talk but all that I heard was “you’re slow. Why are you even doing this? You’re not a runner, quit trying”. I kept telling myself id run 4 miles… I even took a road knowing it would be a 4 mile loop, but I chose to take the construction/no go sidewalks/gravel as an out. It was a vicious cycle of slow run, hit pause, walk along, try again… Repeat fail.
There was literally no one else out on the road this morning. No one to see my fail. At 3 miles of running I finally hit end instead of pause and completely gave up. I thought briefly about sitting on a park bench before walking home. I knew if I did that the tears of frustration would hit me. I’m not a crier but today… It wouldn’t have been pretty.
So I walked the mile and a half home. Suddenly there was a ton of “regulars” out on the harbour passage. Lots of witnesses to me shuffling home. Still giving a half smile/wave and saying good morning. Somewhere deep down even though I quit I refused to be the same as the person who made me want to quit in the first place.
Today I’m frustrated. And mad at myself. I 100% quit running and can actually admit that. However, when I go to bed tonight I will still leave my 4;45 alarm setting on. I will still get up and put on my Nikes and get out the door. Today I quit, but tomorrow I will start again, left foot, right foot, repeat.
I’m not one for inspirational memes and such, but today there’s nothing more fitting than this:
I made a goal of running 100 miles in august. Sure I put it out there on my blog… But more importantly I made that goal for myself. I refuse to quit this because of a few bad runs. If I’ve learned anything about myself from running it’s that I can have bad weeks and not love the process so much, but that first run when everything clicks again will happen.
Until it does I will continue to push through and chase that feeling. I know it will be back.