my first 10 miles

subtitled: Me, Myself and I.

sub-subtitled: horoscopes are stupid.

Since my not so hot 8 mile run with Tara (that was 2 weeks ago), I have run twice. The 10K last Monday and then again today. Today was a big deal. My first double-digit run. I did two 5 mile loops near the Bog.

I parked my car and grabbed my iPod, only to discover that the battery was dead. At that point, I realized I forgot to wrap my knee. And I didn’t have my watch. I knew right then it was going to be a looooong 10 miles.

I have no idea where I was during that first loop when everything went south. It was all in my head. I had to run 10 MILES. I’m not ready for that. I’ll never be ready for my half marathon pikermi. And don’t even mention the marathon. What was I thinking? I mean, clearly I wasn’t or I wouldn’t continue to repeat the fact that I am planning on running these races. I wouldn’t have registered. I wouldn’t be spending my money on running gear.

About 1/4 mile before my car, I stopped. I stood on the side of a busy street and spoke to myself out loud.

“You have to work for the things you want. Do you want this or not? You need to figure your shit out, now.”

I got to my car and sat down for a few minutes at least 30 minutes. I really needed to think about what I wanted. It would have been so easy to walk drive away and never come back to this point. By that I mean occasionally running 3-4 miles, and giving up the desire to run longer distances. Was I ready to walk away from my goals? Walk away from this blog and the support I receive? Was I really ready to give up?

As I sat in my car I got a text from Tara saying that she’d received 100% of her fundraising goal for Team in Training. I cried. I cried because the level of support in this community is enough to take my breath away sometimes. I cried because I’m not willing to walk or drive away from my goals. I cried because I’m frustrated. I have a strong dislike of doing my long runs solo. I dislike running solo without my music. I HATE long solo runs with no music. I cried because I HATE battling injuries (even though it’s relatively minor). I cried because I am certifiable member of my generation, as much as I’ve denied it up until this point. (that’s generation “I deserve everything I want because I’m “special” and I want it 5 minutes ago”). I cried because I feel like I’m always tired (can you say anemic?). I cried because I am not a natural runner and I don’t like (and don’t have a good track record with) sticking to things that don’t come easily to me. Yes, I know I’m not alone in that. Knowing that I’m not alone in that feeling doesn’t actually make me feel better. It makes me sad knowing that there are countless people out there giving up on themselves because something is challenging. It makes me want to be one of the ones that doesn’t give up, but it doesn’t make it easier to not give up. I cried because I read my horoscope today and it told me “you can get all the benefit with little effort or expense”. I really don’t like being lied to, even if it’s just by a stupid horoscope (let’s ignore the fact that I actually read it. Embarrassing!) It hit me that I am the only thing standing in my way. Let’s call that part the “Me” and the rest of me is “Myself & I”. Myself and I will be doing some brainstorming tonight about how to kick Me out. Myself and I are tired of how negative Me always is. Myself and I want to go places and see things, but Me is an enormous road block. If we don’t have any better ideas, Myself and I are going to grab some metaphorical dynamite and reduce Me to a pile of rubble.

I got another text while I was in the car. This one from a friend and former classmate that I love very dearly. We were joking about a part of my life that I honestly suck at. I am saying it here, with no pride and in my regular-volume voice, I suck at taking care of my car. I am an irresponsible car owner. One could even go so far as to say terribly irresponsible. The gentle ribbing I received was a balm to my (clearly) fragile psyche. Being able to laugh away the tears is a blessing.

It was a sweet, impeccably timed reminder that I am not perfect (all together now, DUH).

I got out of the car and did my second loop.

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9 thoughts on “my first 10 miles

  1. GOOD WORK. Both the thinking in the car AND the doing the second loop. Man, this shit is HARD sometimes. And I think we ALL have moments where we think we want to give up. When really what we want is for it to be easy. That’s not generational (okay, maybe a little bit) – that’s human. This journey isn’t about being the mythical “perfect,” it’s about being perfectly YOU. Imperfections and all (wrap your brain around that, why don’t you!?). And guess what? I love YOU! Just as you are – mental gymnastics and messy car and all.

    • I have a clean car now, thankyouverymuch/ignorethecrumbsthatnevergotvacuumedup. πŸ˜› I love you, too. I’m tired of circling this mental wall, but I’m not sure how to get around it. Obviously, I need a new approach. And maybe a nice hot bath. Oh, and for September to be over. That would be great.

  2. I think you’re in my head when it comes to running. Its a constant mental struggle. I’m glad at the moment my program is more focused on strength training, because its easier. But every time we go for a run, even for a warm up the struggle is back – and I’m acutely aware its all in my head dammit. Your determination and perseverance is huge. Nope, we’re not perfect – but the fact that you got back out of your car and finished your run – pretty freakin’ amazing and really damn hard. I’m impressed over here – gives me something to work towards.
    Thanks for your note on the “crying” incident today – I think you’re right – it was needed and was cleansing.

  3. Running is mental. Normally, it’s my time to bliss out (yoga just doesn’t get me into a meditative state) but I set myself up for failure with this one. I see myself hitting a similar mental wall when I reach a 20 mile training run. And probably at 15, too. Maybe even 18. I like to cry it out, but I prefer the comfort of my own home. Oh, well. Have you read Rita’s post? http://www.thegigglybits.com/2010/09/run/ It’s a keeper. πŸ™‚

  4. Running is mental. Normally, it’s my time to bliss out (yoga just doesn’t get me into a meditative state) but I set myself up for failure with this one. I see myself hitting a similar mental wall when I reach a 20 mile training run. And probably at 15, too. Maybe even 18. I like to cry it out, but I prefer the comfort of my own home. Oh, well. Have you read Rita’s post? http://www.thegigglybits.com/2010/09/run/ It’s a keeper. πŸ™‚

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