The Long Haul

I think why I run, is to remind myself of how good I am.

I know, this sounds cocky. What I mean by it is, running is hard and at times painful but somehow I find the way to fight through it.

I hopped on the treadmill last night after a very long day of over thinking. I set the playlist and started the warm up. I was thrilled with only fifty-two minutes compared to Saturday’s Sixty-three minutes. I tested out some new stretches before starting and had found the most fantastic compression short that helps with the chafing issue. I rocked my blue headband, blasted a whole lot more Ke$ha than one should really ever own, and I started my work out.

The way the treadmill is set up in the back room allows you to look out of the window a bit. I try not to look down at the timer while I’m running inside because outside I never get to see how much time is left; I just trust the announcement that is made through my headphones.

Each work out runs the same way, five minute warm up then right into running for my allotted time, into walking/recovery, back into running again. The application counts down how many times it repeats and I can see a 4 out of 8 right underneath walk or run. So I know how many repeats I have left. The first two times of running are fine, the next two I’m often trying something new with form or speed, then the 4-6 repeats are the toughest. The ones where my asthma is very close to kicking in, where my shin decides to become tight, where my stomach decides to revolt from the stress of the day, or where my shoulder gets really annoyed at the movement.  In other words, it gets really difficult.

I often have this dead gaze while I’m running. Any member of my varsity volleyball team could describe the look. They also could describe the anger grunts that would follow my serve. These things come out while working on a hard part of my run. The grunts come out, the dead gaze is staring at the colorform’s craft decals my mother decorates windows with.  Often a squirrel is shouted at in my head.  At least once I tell myself to quit and get off the treadmill. It is always at least once.

Last night fighting through all the thoughts in my head throughout the whole day, while being on the treadmill having your legs feel exhausted because you are pushing yourself. Well, it reminded me that I can do the long haul, that I’ve always been able to do the long haul. A few of my friends reminded me of that last night through some great emails.

So I know it’s not going to get better instantly but I know I’m good for the long haul.