Two weeks ago I ran the Broad Street Run. It was the first event I’ve trained for since the Seaside Heights Duathlon. Like the duathlon, I came away with mixed feelings. The run was okay, even really fun at times. By around mile six or mile mile seven I felt great, no pain whatsoever, and was even bopping along to the music. Not being someone who loves to be around large groups of people, I didn’t love running around people trying to get passed them or just to find space. Not that I did it a lot, but everyone did it to some extent. I guess it is the nature of running. At least for me, the ebb and flow. By mile nine, I felt myself begin to really fade, to the point where I had to fully concentrate on moving one foot in front of the other. I knew I was close, so I wasn’t going to walk. And it was a couple of days later when I realized, that I at least, really do need to refuel on long runs. I didn’t for this. Because, I didn’t take the event seriously.
But, on the whole it was a fun event I would do again. It wasn’t my fastest run and it wasn’t my slowest. The weird thing, and I felt this after the duathlon, is that I do all this work and then sort of disconnect from the event itself. I am so militant about my workouts, but when the event actually comes I tend to take it fairly lightly. Part of this is to calm my own nerves. And part of this is because I feel a little silly, as though I am posing as someone I’m not. And another part is because I don’t want to become so militant that I lose the enjoyment.
But the thing is, I like being hard ass in my workouts. I like to push myself, especially early in the morning. I love to be out at five in the morning, and at least for awhile own the world. Lately, that zest, that drive seems to have leaked away almost completely and I am frustrated with myself. Some of this is the nature of this time of year. It is hard to get up at four in the morning and then just go all day. I know it is a choice, but it is still hard. Having maintained this schedule since September, I am a little burnt out and I am so ready for spring. I am so ready to move my runs outside and sleep in until four forty. I want to recapture whatever it was that made me go so hard last year. And I think it was because I threw my whole self into the process.
When I have ice-cream, I want the whole deal. I want hot fudge, whipped cream, cookie crumbles and maybe even a brownie. When I drink margaritas, I want to be able to taste the tequila and I want a shot on the side. Really, when I do anything I go way overboard. It is who I am. Part of my charm and part of what makes me an ass. But the thing is, fighting that, trying to do things half way or take the easiest route or pretend it really doesn’t matter just makes me crazy. I don’t want to just finish. I want to finish well. Hell, I want to win. Probably not going to happen, but it will never happen if I keep backing way off. And really, I am so okay with not winning. But I am becoming less okay with just showing up. If I give my all and I come in last, then oh well, that is what I had that day. But if I keep just acting like it is no big deal, then I am losing so much of the thrill of the event.
So from now on, my goal is to take myself seriously. And you can feel free to laugh at me, because I will be laughing at me. But I will be laughing and running or biking or lifting as hard as I can.
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