How is it possible that it’s 8:30 Sunday evening? I feel like it was just a few hours ago that I got off work on Friday afternoon!
Yesterday consisted of a 1.5-hr drive with me, Hubby, and two 50-pound dogs all crammed in my two-seater to go to my hometown for a combination Mother’s Day/Dad’s birthday/friend’s 30th birthday celebration. Busy day to say the least!
This morning I got out of bed about 8:00 and did some light housework (the quiet stuff, so I didn’t wake up Hubby), all the while arguing with myself about whether or not I felt like running. All week long I had planned on doing a longish run this weekend because it was supposed to be sooooo pretty out. I honestly did NOT feel like running, but I convinced myself that I would hate myself if I didn’t because in all likelihood this is the last of the cool weather. (It was 47 when I got up.) Might as well take full advantage of it.
I am SO GLAD I did.
I just recently bought a fuel belt so that I could change up my routes. I’ve always had to lay out my long runs around my house or my parked car or a convenience store or something. NO MORE! I threw on my belt and hit the pavement.
And today I hit a pretty major milestone. I ran ten miles NONSTOP. Since I had my belt, I did not have to stop for water. I did not stop to walk. I did not stop to stretch. I did not stop to pee. (I did not pass Go. I did not collect $200…) I started running, and I did not stop running until my Garmin beeped it’s 10th alert. I struggled with a humongous hill between 4 and 5, and I just kept telling myself, “Push to mile 5, then you can stop and walk.” Well, the hill ended shortly before I hit 5, so I told myself, “Okay, you’re fine now, you don’t have to stop because you’re fixing to turn around and coast down the hill you just overcame. Enjoy it and you can walk at mile 6.” Well, hell, by the time I got to 6 I was feeling great because I had just pretty much coasted for a mile. So I pushed further: “If you push to 8 miles, you’ll be back to the highway. You can walk then.” So I did. And I still felt pretty good. So I was like, “Ah, what the hell! You’ve come this far! Two more miles! Go!” And I did, and I made it, and it was awesome. Average pace 10:49.
And then I rewarded myself with more housework and laundry and a shitload of yard work.
I’m exhausted, but I’ve earned it.