Here it is 5 a.m. again on a Saturday morning and this is the only time I have to write. This summer has been so incredibly busy with running and teaching at the local YMCA. I am only home one night a week to spend time with the husband and to catch up with my cheesy reality shows (don't judge me!).
Training is going well. Just finished 4 hellious weeks of hill workouts. I really..really...hate hills. Hate. Them. The heat wave we've been having doesn't help either and a coach that really doesn't care it is 95 with 90 percent humidity. Actually, he cares so little that he increases the time spent on hill repeats. There are days I swear he really is Hitler with longer hair.
There are some amazing people in this years crop of people and I don't foresee many dropping. Last year, the group started with over 20 and ended with about 12 (if that). This year, there is a different vibe and it makes the workout's fun, if you call sweating so much you have to wring out your sport bra, fun.
A few people have said that they can't believe the difference in my running this year. That I am a stronger runner, not the same person. This surprises the hell out of me because I feel like the same runner. The only difference this year is that I don't care about my pace. Well, I DO, but I am not obsessed with it. Last year, my Garmin was like a permanent tattoo on my wrist and there were runs I would give myself whip lash from looking at it so much to see how fast or slow I was going. It, not me, ruled my running and I started to hate running. That my friends is bad.
Then I read a book in the Spring that changed everything. A little book called Born to Run. The message I got from that book is to get back to the joy of running and everything will fall into place. That is what I did. This year, I run by how I feel and I don't beat myself up. I've accepted that I am not going to be a front of a pack runner and hell, sometimes not even near the front of the middle of the pack. I run because there are moments of such beauty. Times where you feel like you have wings on your feet (even if you are going at an 11 min mile) and you just feel GOOD. That is the feeling I love and after when I run. Don't care if I am running a 8 min pace or a 11 minute pace (won't lie, would be nice to know what an 8 min. pace would feel like and not feel like puking).
The other change is my confidence. I've run a marathon, made it through and have learned from it. I know I can do it. The big question is how pissed is my body going to be and what retaliation will it take upon me. Shiver.
Time to get ready. Looking out the window and there is an absolutely gorgeous sunrise. Ah, that is what I am talking about.