This weekend I was supposed to run 7 miles. I wasn’t looking forward to it. For one thing, I only ran once this past week, and for a measly 2.5 miles, so I wasn’t exactly prepared to run 7. Also, despite the fact that January was one of the mildest Januarys I can remember, all of a sudden winter decided to show up, and it was going to be COLD over the weekend. I’d more than likely end up running 7 miles inside, which would mean at least 90 minutes on the dreadmill. Finally, we had plans to go to Memphis to visit my family to celebrate my mom’s birthday (she’s a Valentine baby), and I knew if I was going to run I would have to get up early because we needed to leave the house around 11. This list of excuses is typically enough for me to just give up on running for the day, but I knew I had to do it if I was going to stay on top of my half marathon training, so I set my alarm for 6:00 a.m.
Yes, that’s right, I set my alarm for 6:00 a.m. on a SATURDAY. I used to think people who woke up early on the weekends to go and run were crazy. Now I am one of those people. And I probably am crazy.
But I was a crazy person running on the treadmill by 6:20, and I was actually feeling pretty proud of myself. Of course, it’s easy to feel proud of yourself when you actually haven’t run the 7 miles yet. Around mile 2.5 I started to think that I might lose my mind if I had to spend 4.5 more miles staring at the closet door. Even though I had a movie playing on my Kindle Fire, I was bored to tears. When I hit the 3 mile mark I decided to brave the winter weather and take my run outdoors. I changed into warmer clothes, grabbed my mp3 player and Garmin, and headed out the door.
Approximately 5 minutes later, I came back inside, convinced that I would a) die of frostbite or b) get blown away by the tremendous wintry gusts if I stayed outside. I changed back into my original clothes and hopped back on the treadmill, steeling myself for the torture that lay ahead.
But somehow, it wasn’t torture. Sure, I was dripping with sweat and huffing and puffing and still staring at the closet door, but the run really wasn’t terrible. In fact, I even enjoyed parts of it! Who knew?! 🙂
95 minutes later, I had logged 7.5 miles (7 mile run with .25 mile warmup and cool down). The best part was it was just a little past 8:00 a.m. when I finished, so I still had the whole day to look forward to! I am so glad I didn’t skip my run. Whenever I am tempted to skip a workout, I remember that I always regret skipping a workout but I never wish I hadn’t worked out. Mind over matter, friends!