So Tuesday's training didn't go exactly as planned. First off, I stayed up much later then I was supposed to Monday night trying to trudge through hundreds of pages of reading for the worst masters course ever (3rd Party Governance... yea). Plus my internal clock hasn't adjusted to tri training times yet (up at 5-something and barely making it to 10pm without crashing). Finally, the Tuesday run group is mainly newbies, it was their first day, and it was a timed run. By "timed run" I mean they run down to the Eclipse and then lap around for about a mile timed so they can have a benchmark of where they started so they can accurately measure their progress. It's actually a great tool and really motivating because you KNOW you will improve from your first week's time, but now you can be shocked at just how much! But for me, considering the other variables, it would mean me waking up very early for a meet and great, not get that many miles in, and I will be also running with the Thurs morning vets group who will also be doing a timed run, but with more mileage. Plus I'm going to the happy hour Thurs which will probably be slightly more fun to meet the newbies with a cocktail in hand than sleep in my eyes.
Long story short I didn't run with the group Tuesday morning. When I got up I realized it was going to be one of those days... a sloth day. There is this evil me, a sloth me, and every once in a while she rears her ugly head and makes doing anything such a chore. She wants waffles for breakfast, marathon movie watching in bed, and if I need to get up and get moving she motivates me to bake. Procrastination via baking! Bad bad bad for the good me.
I had a pretty tough time saying no. Though I had spurts of good intentioned productivity, they never lasted long and I always ended up caving to evil me's whims. By the end of the day I felt gross, defeated and depressed. I needed to go for my run. As I have mentioned many times before, I consider myself a codependent runner. I have a really really hard time motivating myself to go out and run alone when, instead, I could meet up with a friend and chat my way through the miles without even noticing them pass. Unfortunately (continuing the theme of the day) all running buddies were MIA last night. Of course... I really thought I was going to, yet again, cave to evil me, but then... I didn't. I put on my stubborn face, threw on my running gear quickly so as to not tempt a change of mind and stomped out the door. I might have had a horrible sloth day, I might have not gotten half the things done that I needed to, and I might have eaten waffles for breakfast, but I was GOING to go for a run damn it!
Not only did I go for a run, but I ran up to the National Cathedral, one of the highest points in DC. With my ipod blasting I pounded my way up and up and up with nothing but pure stubborn attitude pushing me along. It was spite... spite for the evil me, spite for the codependent runner me, spite for the procrastinator me... it was my stubborn run.
After it was all over I, of course, felt wonderful. I was awake, motivated and moving. Later during a discussion with my Mom, she gave me an assignment: to run alone for a minimum of 4 miles once a week. It's not that I need to become a lone runner, but I do need to be ok with running alone. The lack of a running partner does not justify a lack of a run. Another challenge...