I was a total SLUG yesterday. I blame the weather, but take total responsibility for blowing off the whole day. I was on the elliptical for 90 minutes Wednesday and couldn't bear the thought of doing it again yesterday. And it was just too cold outside (for me, but I bet
you could have survived).
So as I was drifting off to sleep last night, I decided maybe today – when the high will be in the 40s – I could go long.
Back in my half-marathon training days, I spent most of my time on one of two mostly flat roads. I still spend a fair amount of time on the shorter one, which is a four-miler. But I haven't done the longer out-and-back route for years. I'm hoping to hit it today.
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Interestingly, when I used to run this route I always thought it was eight
miles. According to mapmyrun.com, it's nearly 11. Now I have to walk
there today to find out what my phone's GPS app says it is. |
One of my favorite memories of running on that road was when I was training for the Country Music Half-Marathon in 2007 – my first half and, in fact, my first race ever. I went back to read the post I wrote on my old blog, and it's amazing what time can do to memories. It was six days before the race, and I thought I was going strong. I had planned to do 12 miles; turns out I quit after eight. I thought I was excited when really I was rather subdued. Happy? Not at all. A friend of my husband's had died the night before.
You can read that post here, if you like.
It all comes down to mind over matter, though. I only wish I'd remembered that yesterday, when I was being all slothful and depressed. Ah, well, as Scarlett said, "… tomorrow (today) is another day."
