Friday, February 4, 2011

Sometimes I run

I am not very fast, and I struggle with motivation. Yet I consider myself a "runner." It is part of who I am, part of the person I am growing into. Running clears my mind. It is physical proof that I am healthy, that whatever struggles my body has gone through, I have overcome them. Am overcoming them.

After months of training and in the midst of a failing romantic relationship, I finished the 2010 Bank of America Chicago Marathon. Key word is Finished. Stumbling, dehydrated, hurting and disappointed, I crossed that FINISH line, was given my finisher's medal and collapsed on some grass across from Buckingham Fountain. My finishing time was an embarrassing 5:55:54 (really). My hazy goal had been a 4:30 finish, but my body mechanics won the fight against my mental fortitude. Basically, my IT band decided it would be a blast to go and get royally screwed up one month before the marathon. So I finished the race, but I could barely bend my knee after and for the next two days.

Yet somehow, I still finished. Then 4 weeks later, I ran a 15k race (~9.3 miles). IT band be damned; I am going to keep running. I am registered for a 30k race (~18 miles) at the end of March. I would like to run at least one more marathon this year, perhaps a few halfs.

I am a runner and my biggest problem is I am struggling to get out the door this winter. How in the hell am I going to get through 18 miles in less than 8 weeks when I haven't run more than four or five miles at a time for the past two months? Is it even possible? I am full of doubt and chocolate covered pretzels, neither of which are terribly conducive to a successful run. So if you've happened across this blog, welcome to my newest forum for my thoughts. Maybe, if I try to write something worthwhile every day, I will hold myself more accountable for my training. Perhaps it will just be an outlet for my guilt. All of those things. Who knows. Maybe I'll see if I can't go for a long run tomorrow... Shooting for an hour.

So, welcome to my weird, inconsistent, generally self-deprecating world. More running, less thinking.

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