I cannot believe I forgot to tell/ask/discuss this with all y'all yesterday. Apparently I need to start writing myself notes on my phone or, y'know, my arm or something so that when I sit down at the computer I am not at the mercy of my rapidly aging brain!
Here's the thing. I can almost run (yes, yes, jog slowly, STFU) 3 miles without stopping now. I'm very close. In fact, the other night when I went out in the rain--my preferred running conditions, as I may have mentioned--according to googlemaps I went about 2.7-2.8 miles and the thing is, I could have gone longer but I was back around the corner from my house. Any day now I'ma blow through that last quarter of a mile.
So, weeks ago, when I told Liz I was doing couch-to-5k, she had asked me if I was intending to run one and mentioned the Witch City 5k in October. I was all, no no, I don't want to run any races, I just wanna know I can do it. But you know the idea was planted in me feckin' head and I had to go to the website and look at the route, yadda yadda. Then, for a week and a half or so, my running progress ground to a halt. My legs were sore every single day from the combination of weights and increasing the running distances and I had, frankly, a little mental block about getting past 2 1/4 miles. Well, I said to myself, your silly fantasies about even being able to run 5k by the end of October are obviously just that. Stop kicking around the idea of signing up for that race. Out of the question.
But I got past my mental block and my body has apparently adjusted to the demands I've been placing on it, so the question comes up again. Should I do this? It's, like, stupid, right? It's not as if I would be competitive in my age group (though I know I wouldn't be last, either, because there are plenty of people who walk or walk/run these kind of "fun run" events) and it's not as if I'm gonna have people cheering me on at the finish line. (I know my friends. Ain't no one getting up that early on a Sunday morning for me. And you know D couldn't do it.) So what would be the point? There wouldn't be one.
And yet. I wish Liz had never put the idea into my head. I can't get it out so easily.
xoxo
11 comments:
I think you should do it!
For *you*. For the part of you that keeps thinking about it and wants to do it.
Just do it! ;-)
I think I've heard that slogun before... ;-)
For friends of mine who (still) do it, the opportunity to measure oneself against an inflexible (i.e. not internal and fungible) standard (aka the race timer) is the lure. It also seems to lend structure to their training, since the inflexibility of date and distance must always be respected as well.
Of course, exercise nihilists reject all such premises, and simply continue to run alone in the rain...
I R so confused. Am I an "exercise nihilist" or not, and is that a good or a bad thing? ahahaha
Well, I didn't want to call attention to your laterally-veined (and I'm expecting amply-pulminarily-endowed) vanity, so, absent that and a race to get to somewhere, sometime, what is there to run for?
(There's a wink at the end of that last one, in case you and Nietzsche couldn't tell).
Just go do the fricken race, 'k?
hahahaha
You people are killing me. I could just *tell* you all I did it and you'll never know, 'cause no one's gonna get up early on a Sunday to take pictures of me crossing the finish line and so I won't be called on to furnish PROOF.
BTW, 2.8 miles in 31 minutes today. So close. And, also, btw? When you're proud of your muy macha expanding blood vessels, it's called veinity.
ahahaha
(I amuse myself so very very much, I can't even tell you.)
See, I knew you were going to turn into one of those scary triathlon women: nothing but "runner's highs" and "single-digit body fat" all day long.
So since you're heading in that direction anyway, you should totally do Witch City run. I mean, there's only what, six months to the Boston Marathon? Gotta get in your tune-up races.
I don't take fitness advice from you anymore, pal, after you were unimpressed with my new vein. <---example of "veinity", try to keep up, willya?
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