Week 7

I could be running right now.  But I'm not.  Today is Tuesday and if it's Tuesday, it's running day, yet here I sit writing my runner's log instead of actually, um, running. 

The last two weeks have been tough.  Tough both physically and mentally.  Two Saturdays ago, I ran for the first time for a solid 20 minutes.  Up to that point, my training intervals had been running/walking which was getting fairly easy to do.  But then they throw in that big 20.  After about eight minutes, I hit a wall, then at about 12, I got into a zone.  When it was over, I was elated and excited that I had been able to do it.  I walked for a good ten minutes, then stretched well.  I remember commenting to my friend that my back seemed really tight.  About five minutes later, I was lifting something (not with my legs) and it clenched up on me.  Since that day, I have been enduring muscle spasms, low back stiffness and non-bliss in my right hip. 

Even so, I was able to continue on my program this past week.  The training and walking on my off days loosened my back, and after each run I would stretch and ice.  I also saw a massage therapist.  Saturday was another big day, 27 minutes running (this after I figured out that the times the website gave for training were based on 10-minute miles).  I increased the time to correspond with the distance I should have been training for that day, 2.25 miles. 

Today, I was scheduled to run for 30 minutes.  I know that physically, I could do it.  Even though my back is really tight today, and I am pressed for time, I could do it.  The challenge I'm encountering is the mental aspect.  I just can't seem to fathom running for 30 minutes.  I'm not sure why it seems like such a big deal.  I know people that run for 36 hours straight (100 mile races).  So why does 30 minutes seem insurmountable? I will choose to look at this as an opportunity for me to explore my beliefs about what I think I can and cannot do. 

Perfection in any pursuit is an illusion.  By design, I'm not perfect, and my body and my mind are telling me so by putting the brakes on the training a bit.  When that happens, I have to listen to them.  I can run tomorrow, and I most certainly will.  It's not the end of the world to miss a day.  It won't derail my training or keep me from running in the Race for the Cure or Bloomsday. 

So, I choose to withhold judgment.  I choose to be compassionate with myself and my body.  I choose to take a day off and write instead of run.  As long as its my choice, I am empowered by my decision.  And feeling empowered, then I can continue to move forward.