That’s the hashtag I created after Saturday’s long run was over and done with.
Because guess whose BACK in action? THIS GIRL!!
(and if I wasn’t so tired after we got back, I would’ve snapped a pic, in all my sweatified glory!)
Saturday’s run was JUST what I needed to get my head back in the game. My body did the work — leading by example instead of allowing my mind to lead me down the wrong path as it’s had a habit of doing lately.
My husband kept commenting to that effect, too.
…that I was doing great, working hard, having a great run. <– And he never says these things unless they are indeed true. He knows I’ll call him out on it if he throws motivational speaker-tone at me mid-run. 😉
Truth be told? Both Friday night and when I first woke up on Saturday morning — I felt ready. My mind had calmed way down. I hadn’t run in two days so my legs were runner -fresh (well, they were “fresh” from not running but not quite so fresh given all the barre classes I taught / took towards the end of the week, woopsie). We had a restful, carb-filled, hydrating Friday night. I was actually itching to run.
So when we set out at 5:15am on Saturday morning, I wasn’t anxious or nervous. I was happy to be out there. Happy to be up and active while the rest of the world was fast asleep (and trust me, everyone WAS fast asleep for at least the first hour of our run, it was so quiet and peaceful, which is a rarity on most of our running routes, it’s not like we live in the boondocks). Happy to be doing what I love: running. Scott and I didn’t talk all that much for at least the first hour, we were lost in our own thoughts, listening to our feet hitting the pavement, watching the wildlife scurry around (bunnies, squirrels and even a DUCK!), just running. Joyfully so.
By the time we got to the second half of our run, I was tired – sure. But I wasn’t beat down. I knew I had the 7 miles in me and I tried like hell to pick up the pace, on Scott’s order, of course. 😉 And even as we got nearer and nearer to the end of our run, and were into the double-digits at that point, I found myself doing a status check. My breathing was great. My legs were still fairly peppy (but very sore in the quads region — blaming that fully on the barre!). I was doing *really* well for coming in at 12.5 miles.
…and that’s what really struck me throughout the day on Saturday. Even though I definitely felt like I ran hard that morning, I wasn’t dead or feeling all that beat up. My body was holding up just fine. My body had not failed me. Nor had my mind.
To me, that was a real breakthrough point — my body can do this. It can, it can, it can. It just proved that out on Saturday. So I’m going to go ahead and stop doubting myself now. It’s silly, it’s wasted energy, it’s not getting me anywhere fast. Instead — I’m channeling the CAN attitude and seeing where it takes me next.
…hopefully towards more joyful runs, long, short, and everything in between. 🙂