Monday I started my B210K training. I've been dreading it, digging in my heels & making excuses why I couldn't start. The scary reality is that I'm signed up for a 7 mile off-road race the weekend before Thanksgiving & it's happening whether I'm ready or not.
Monday I ran 4.07 miles, but subsequently realized that I had cheated some of the time & not done the full workout. Today there was no scrimping & I dragged my carcass 4.75 miles. I'm flabbergasted. I've always resolutely maintained the use of the word "run" vs the pejorative "jog" (in PE they taught us that running requires a brief moment of time airborne...I will stake my claim to that regardless of how slowly my feet are moving in the process of achieving that airborne moment). That being the case I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a "runner." I usually say "I run," instead of owning the title of runner. More evidence of the lag between mind & body, but today I'm feeling pretty confident about the mileage of the race (the creeks & ice & mountainous hay bales are another story).
And as if that wasn't enough to get me feeling good about myself & running (still can't really call myself a runner), check out how I found my daughter last night:
...wearing my running kicks & all snuggled up with "Runners' World." There's no better feeling as a parent than when you realize that you've engaged in a little piece of positive modeling. Maybe that negates the fact that my son says "Oh. My. Gosh." like
a 15 year old his mom. Nope, that's still awful.