I live for Saturday afternoons. I love the sheer exhaustion that comes from Saturday morning long runs. I love the soreness I feel in my legs, my body – knowing I have pushed myself to the limit for that day.
I do not enjoy rest days, but know they have their place. For one reason or another I could not run Sunday and then again on Monday. Today I woke up irritated at nothing. I wanted to run. I needed to run to quiet the internal voice in my head.
Somehow I managed to gain 5 pounds last week. It is not water weight because my jeans feel tighter in my thighs, the first place I gain. My mind is doubting my fitness, because in the past 10 days I have only run 5 times. Maybe this is where the weight gain is from. Am I eating as if I am running allot of miles, but am not?
The weird part is that I have had really good workouts despite the negative thoughts in my head and the rubbing of my thighs.
Last Wednesday I ran 5 miles on the treadmill, starting at a 9:30 pace, dropping down to 7:30. Thursday I pushed Chloe and Colton in the double stroller for 7 miles. I had planned on running 5 or 6 but Chloe told me that she really wanted to run allot of miles and could I please run 7 instead. I obliged because it was a hilarious request. Only one of my children would ask me to run more instead of less. They were 7 of the fastest miles I have ever run pushing 2 kids.
Friday I only had time for 3 miles on the treadmill. I wanted to run more, but know that life often gets in the way of my running.
Saturday my alarm did not go off and I started at 7am instead of 5:30 like I had planned. I was annoyed that I overslept, and had zero motivation to run alone. Thankfully a girl from my running club still had 8 left of her 18 miles [her first 18 ever!] so I had company for 8 miles. I wanted to run 20 miles that day but did not really want to tell anyone that. I knew if I said I wanted to run 20 my mind, stubborn as it is, would not let me run one step less than 20.
When asked how many I wanted to run. Without hesitating I said 20. Guess I really did want to run 20 – NOT.
20 I ran. They were HARD. REALLY, REALLY HARD.
Miles started pre-school today and Chloe had orientation for kindergarten, so it again meant that life got in the way of my running. [In case you were wondering - his day was great and seeing him so happy at drop off made me smile, not cry]
I managed to invent a workout I had never done before because I wanted to run a decent amount of miles and had no time to do it.
I started out at marathon pace and progressed down with each mile. This helped me get in the mind set of running fast but also pacing myself in order to make sure that each subsequent mile was faster than the one before.
So why am I complaining? Why am I doubting my fitness? Three great workouts should more than make up for my lack of running. Right?
I *strongly dislike* the doubting cycle that seems to constantly fill my head. One day I hope to silence that negative voice.