I honestly can not bring myself to admit I "like" running. I just really don't ever get that"Man, I sure am happy I am running" feeling. That being said, I keep going back for more (and more (and more)).
Yesterday, I was out running. I went for what was going to be 6-8 flat and fast miles. (Not sure why I am combining speed with long distance when my longest run was 5.5 miles prior to this one, but hey…. I was doing it). I couldn't get the speed up to where I wanted it. My legs were just angry about something, but I kept going.
I think a lot of thoughts about a lot of things, while running. When will I turn around? Will I have to walk? If I run THIS far out, will I be okay going back? What is for dinner? Crazy stuff in my brain cell!
Anyway… I decided to turn around at 40 minutes – but was close enough to 4 miles, I decided to endure and go for a full 8. 80 minutes wasn't enough… 86 would be good, right?
So … I hit about mile 7 and was thinking "Why the hell did I go that far? That was stupid…. maybe I should find a half marathon to run?" SERIOUSLY? You are tired, your legs hurt, you don't even feel like finishing the 8 miles you have on the table today and your brain's next logical thought is …. lets' add another 5.1 to this run?
Who knows, maybe I will… in 2 weeks – 10, in 4 weeks 12, in 6 weeks it's half time? (wait…) The problem is i'm heavier than I want to be and my time would likely be slower than my previous 2 halfs…. and that would make me grumpy.
Anyways…. I just thought I'd open the door into my world of wacko!
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