I haven’t written much since my first post in September of 2013. Crap, I just went back and checked. Turns out I haven’t written anything since then. I love to describe myself as ambitious. I think it would be better if I could describe myself as consistent. I have a habit of starting things with great intentions, then quickly moving on to something more exciting.
Running was different. Eventually. My first race almost killed me, but it also changed me. Even though my training leading up to that race was flawed at best, still, I finished the race. I didn’t walk once. My pace may have been just barely above a walk, but I did not walk. It was a major victory and I was hooked.
I’ll post all of my races and times soon enough, but for now I’ll just say that over the next 21 months I ran a race almost every single month. There were some exceptions, but not many. I ran 5ks, 10ks, 15ks, 20ks, and half marathons. My sights were set on a full marathon and my training was headed in the right direction. I registered for the Cowtown Marathon scheduled for March 1, 2015.
But it was not to be. On January 25th I injured my ankle. So many things were wrong that day, and it’s a story that doesn’t belong on a public blog post. It was an event filled with chaos, trauma, and incredible emotional pain. In fact, it makes me sad to admit that in the middle of it all, my marathon was even on my mind. But it was. I knew as I fell to the ground and felt my ankle twist and pull in an unhuman direction that I would not be able to fulfill my dream of running a marathon. At least not in March of 2015.
On January 24th, I could run 24 miles non-stop. I don’t think I ever went clear to 26.2, but I did go past the typical 20-mile training plan. It wasn’t easy, but it was possible. Today I ran 3.5 miles and hurt almost as badly as I did that day in May of 2013 on my first race ever. I was exhausted. I wanted to cry. I wanted to quit. Still, today’s run was better than my run two days ago. On Saturday I barely made it 1 mile before I had to stop and take a walk-break. Overall I only made it two miles that day.
When I stopped running, I started eating. I’ve put on almost 10 pounds since January. That is completely my fault. But as I ran today I was fascinated by how the body adapts. When I’m building muscle, running longer distances, running faster, I love the concept of adaptation. But when I’m sitting on the couch watching American Ninja Warrior with a bag of chips on my lap I’m less impressed with adaptation.
Well, excuses are gone. It’s time to leave the world of atrophy and get back to work. I ran 4 days last week. And I use the word “run” very loosely. I’m scheduled for a 5k this Saturday and a 10k on July 4th. I haven’t yet found the perfect event for my next stab at a marathon. But I’m on the prowl.