Last night was the night I was supposed to train with Gordon. His back was hurting, so he begged off. I sat at work staring out the window because that meant I would be on my own to run and I just wasn't feeling it. I had spent three days with little or no sleep and that seemed like a good enough reason to bag it for the night.
Then Marianne came in. She has been an amazing and supportive friend on this journey. I tell her Gordon is down for the count.
Marianne: "Are you still going to go?"
Me: (lackluster) "Sure," Marianne just smiled.
I finished up my work and she slid into place. I sat in the other side of the room and started to read the paper. It was the sports section regarding today's Indy Corn 250 at the Newton Speedway.
Marianne: "You big into racing are you?" she queried innocently.
Me: "Well, I grew up around it, so I am kind of interested in the big racers coming to Iowa," I answered with honesty. My dad races and so does Gordon and I am interested in anything that makes Iowa appear to the outside world as anything other than a place where corn grows and pigs poop. Yes, we have both, but we have a hell of a lot more!
Marianne: (smelling a rat) "You stalling are you?"
Me: (getting truly honest) "Yep, a little." Marianne just smiled. She didn't give a guilt inducing speech or remind me why working out was so important, she just let it lie there.
Five minutes later I was out the door.
I started out with the intent of walking/running 2 miles and not really killing myself to do it. (Gordon wasn't there to play drill sergeant.) Five blocks of fast walking in I started running and something weird took over. In spite of the thick air, it was SO humid, I quickened my pace. I ran longer and walked less. Before I knew it I was crossing the river bridge into the East Village. From work to the capitol and back is my 3 mile route. Somewhere along the line I had decided to go further.
I looked at my watch, I was also going faster. Darn fast for someone who hasn't been running that long. Plus the walking in between running spurts was faster than usual. I felt great and was in some sort of "zone" as I made the loop and headed back toward work.
38 minutes. That's how long it took me to do 3 miles. That works out to 12:40 a mile. That's nearly the pace I hope to run in October for the 5K.
Did it kick my butt? Yep. But I felt rockin'! Not only physically, but mentally. And amazingly, I don't hurt this morning. This is my first real sign, I can do this running thing.
Best always, Ms_H
Weight - 176 pounds