Sunday, March 19, 2017

Run, Meg, Run

After the Beat the Blerch Half Marathon in November 2015, I took a break from longer running for a while. As 2016 dawned, I wanted to spend less time pounding the pavement and do shorter races. In April, I ran a 12K, and it was okay--I under-trained for it, but I made it through. By July, I was in escrow on Casa Meg, and two days after taking possession of that hot little mess, I "ran" a favorite local 5K in Sacramento. Okay, I walked it. After the first mile, in which I felt sick to my stomach, I slowed it down and enjoyed the scenery.

Then I got busy making Casa Meg what it is now, and moving, and decorating, and fixing, and adopting cats, get it. I haven't been running. I make the gym a priority, but I just haven't made time to run.

I miss it. I miss the Zen feeling that comes when I focus on my breathing (two steps for each inhale, two steps for each exhale). I miss the feeling of meditating I achieve when in motion like that--I can't get it sitting still. I miss how my body feels after a long slog. So, I'm getting back to it.

It's so hard.

On Monday, I went out with one mile in mind. A long day at school followed by an after-school band rehearsal had me wanting to get it over with. My shins protested every run interval. During the walk intervals, I heaved. My face was soaked with sweat. I reminded myself that it's worth this initial fight.

On Wednesday, I did again. The difference wasn't huge, but it was there. It was the tiniest bit easier, but still nowhere near as easy as it used to be.

I went out again this morning, with two miles in mind. I'm not going to lie--I walked most of it. I spent a good chunk of yesterday cleaning and doing laundry, and had a late evening hanging out at Sarah's. Running was the last thing my body wanted to do, but I got out there and ran part of two miles total. Just making myself lace up the Mizunos was a big deal, really.

And so it goes. I'm thinking of signing up for the Urban Cow Half Marathon in October to give myself a goal...and another finisher's cowbell. That is plenty of time to get back up to thirteen miles, especially given my running history. There are parks near my condo that give some nice running routes, and I'm not opposed to going to Mom and Dad's on a Sunday morning to run their neighborhood again. After all, I ran there for five years and trained for three half marathons on the hilly terrain there.

So bring on the $125 Mizunos and endless packs of Gu gel. Bring on the stretching and foam rolling and the pissing and moaning. But mostly, bring on the badass feeling of getting it done out there. The Running Fool is back.

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