There's a 4.5 mile run in November with my name on it. Today, because there's no time like the present, and because November is closer than it seems, I began to train. I'm training for an 10K, which is 6.2 miles; I'd much rather sail across the finish line with a perfect ponytail and a healthy glow on my cheeks instead of crawling across, all disheveled and gasping for breath, because I didn't train enough.
And I'm afraid. Afraid that the lazy, boo-hoo-I-can't-do-this part of me will win out somewhere along the way, and I'll give up. But dadgummit, if the 80-years-young lady I read about last week can lace up her shoes and run (in her 12th marathon), so can I.
So. can. I.
Now, on with the stats:
Trips to the bathroom immediately proceeding the run because I was nervous: 2
Distance: 1.5 miles
Time: 14 minutes, 35 seconds
Conditions: 73 lovely degrees, and not a wisp of a cloud in the sky
# of complaints from my old-lady knees: Zero!
Song of the day: It's All Right by the Traveling Wilburys - my Dad is cheering and my Mom is cringing about this :)
"If you run, you are a runner. It doesn't matter how fast or how far. It doesn't matter if today is your first day or if you've been running for twenty years. There is no test to pass, no license to earn, no membership card to get. You just run."
Always in traffic
5 hours ago