I still remember how to run.
We’ve had quite a spell of rainy days all strung together lately, meaning my workouts have been of the indoor-on-the-treadmill variety. But yesterday, while the clouds lingered the rain stopped and I decided to walk outside for an hour.
I headed out at a brisk pace, iPod in hand, and headed uphill. The first mile and a tenth of my route, starting at my driveway, is a steady climb. But what goes up must come down, and the combination of a downhill slope and a song that kicked it up a notch had me trotting, at least for a couple minutes.
Coming back, of course, that steady climb is a nice, gentle descent and I ended up jogging for a full 10 minutes.
I’m not going to be concerned with speed or miles right now, but just try to add a minute or two each time out. One of these days I’ll find I’ve been running steadily for three miles and then I can start race-training.
I had a conversation with my husband yesterday morning in which I explained to him that when I’m training I feel more motivated to actually get out and do something. (If you’ve been reading here for a while, you’ll recall that he doesn’t want me to run any races this year. He disputes that he said that, by the way. He says he doesn’t want me to run a full marathon. Evah!)
The upshot of the conversation is that I’m getting my mind back into running mode, and where the mind goes, the body will follow. (I know it’s usually the other way around, but in this case my mind has to be ready to run before my legs will accelerate.)
As for which races I’m going to enter, I need to think about that some more. One thing is for sure, though: Running – even at my slow pace – sure felt good.