Earlier this year I started to run.
Sick of the lingering pregnancy pounds and eager to find a quick workout - running sort of made sense. But isn't it sort of terrible? I started running on a treadmill indoors, gradually working my way up to a mile. Then two. In January a two-mile race, then in March, a 5K. I was inconsistent, slow and was so hard on myself mentally. Every walk felt like a failure. Every slow run I hung my head in shame and questioned my motives. After a painfully slow and disappointing 8K CrazyLegs race in April - it was time, time to stop dicking around and actually start to put some serious effort into this "hobby."
I'm not suggesting it - but for me - quitting the gym was key. I was too focused on all of the shit around me instead of running. Chatty personal trainers and TVs on every machine were so loud when all I was looking for was an escape. Time to clear my head and focus.
When it wasn't unbearably hot this summer, running outdoors proved to be the missing link to help move me from slow/inconsistent to not-as-slow/semi-consistent.
Then, it was time for the Summerfest Rock 'n Sole Quarter Marathon. Remember 2011? When I thought it would be a good idea to sign up for a race when Ingrid was roughly 3 months old (see "I'll use the term 'race' loosely" and 10-astrophe).
This year, the race was well organized and Dan and I crossed the finish line together and then met our good friends for a beer. It felt fantastic. No disappoint, no dramatic victory - just personal accomplishment and an excuse to get together with friends.
In a few short days, my best friend and I will be participating in a triathlon. An unexpected first for both of us. I'm nervous about the entire race, the transitions, everything, but I can't wait to cross another finish line because it finally feels like I've hit my stride - no apologies - it feels good!