Yesterday I crossed the finish line at top speed, after running 3.1 miles. It was the man standing at a mile and a half all by himself that clapped for me, and the woman who told me I had a good pace going (even if it was a lie) at mile marker 2 that prevented me from walking. It was seeing all the other runners in front, and imagining all those behind me that keep me going when I wanted to stop. I may have run slow, jogged a good portion of mile 2, but I didn't stop, I didn't walk and I finished in 36:03.
I can't say I enjoyed the run. From the second we started off, I knew it wasn't going to be a nice run around the lake, and I just keep repeating over and over in my head that I just needed to put one foot in front of the other. At one point I remember telling myself running is basically walking, but I'll just be finished sooner if I keep running.
When I saw the finish line, I sprinted to the end, expecting to find my runner's high, to find that excitement I'd been training for, thinking and talking about for weeks leading up to that moment. I didn't find that high or joy instead I found myself tired, with a bit of a headache for the rest of the afternoon, and sore legs today, but I did it. I can now say with confidence that I can run a 5K.
On to the next challenge...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment