On Saturday morning, I got up at 5 am to run 10 miles. I finished in 1:37, without stopping once. I ran a negative split, which means that I ran the last five miles faster than the first five. And the fastest mile I ran was the very last one.
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Him: So you’re a pretty serious runner?
Me: Oh, no, not serious … I just run a lot.
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I spent most of Saturday’s run thinking about that conversation, and about why I don’t think of myself as a “serious” runner. There are a lot of reasons. Serious runners are faster than I am; they run further than I do. They are thinner than I am, and stronger. They look better in compression shorts.
All of that is ridiculous, I know. I had a terrible run at the Dallas Marathon and still finished in the top third in my age group, and ahead of over half of the men who ran the half marathon that day. If I didn’t take running seriously, I wouldn’t be able to do that. I train carefully for my races, and I show up for every run intending to do my best, whether it’s a half marathon or an easy four miles.
So why don’t I think of myself as a “serious” runner? Continue reading
Yes, I realize it’s January 14th, and that the new year started two weeks ago, but it’s taken me a while to get myself together. The boys were out of school until January 7, which felt like 100 years (of joyous family time, of course!) and I spent all last week trying to get my house clean and my to-do list under control.
So today really feels like the start of the new year over here.
What have I been up to, other than vacuuming every single inch of carpet in my house and wiping all the counters with bleach? I started training for a half marathon on December 31; I’m running and swimming, and last week, on a whim, I went to a yoga class at my gym and it was the best thing ever. So now I’m working on my down dog and my balance, which should help with so many other things around here. Continue reading
I ran a half marathon on Sunday, in Dallas. It was an exercise in challenging my comfort zone, from the very beginning. Wade was supposed to go with me (and drive me around), but things around here have been a little crazy lately, and it just wasn’t possible for both of us to be away this weekend. So Saturday morning we decided that I would drive down by myself. Because no big deal! I can drive to Dallas and find my way around downtown and run my race and get myself home, all alone. Why not?
OMG so many reasons why not. And yet, I totally did it. Go me.
I was sad that Wade didn’t go with me — we could really use a little time away, and he is the World’s Best Driver. But when I realized that I would get all the pillows, I got over it. I ordered room service and told Facebook about how I drove myself to Dallas — and my friend Laura messaged me to say that not only was she in Dallas for the same race, but she and her husband and friends were staying at the same hotel and would drive me to and from the race.
Runners are good people, y’all. Continue reading