Guilt Induced Running
Man, it feels good to be back on my running game. This is the best time of year for running outside. Breathing in the crisp fall air. Enjoying the beautiful foliage. Being able to make it half a mile without the back of your shirt soaked in sweat. This all adds up for some awesome autumn runs.
Except...I wouldn’t know much about it. Not this fall, at least. Sure, I’ve broken the ice again since my painful summer setback and gotten out there. A whopping three times. Impressive, I know.
I don’t even have an excuse. I set my alarm for 5am with high hopes of waking up and pounding the pavement before work. Oh, Brig. Sofoolish optimistic.Waking up that early? Doesn’t happen. Unless it’s like, a freak morning when my guilt eats into my dreams and forces me out of bed. But now that fall is officially here and the mornings are darker and cooler, I’ll be lucky to wake up when my alarm goes off for work.
I knew this weekend would be a good chance to get out there. I walked outside Saturday morning to a brisk 55 degrees. It was doing that weird misting thing where it wasn’t raining raining, but your hair was damp if you were outside long enough. I almost went back inside, under the guise of not wanting to get my iPod wet. And then the guilt kicked in. Sometimes a good guilt trip is all you need to take those first few steps. And after the first few steps, it’s a wrap.
It ended up being a really great run. I started with one of my standard routes, tweaking it throughout. I ran by my street near the end and thought about heading home. But then a really good song came on and I took it as a sign to keep going. I reasoned that I’d never get my mileage back up if I stopped when I was tired; running through the fatigue builds endurance, right?
I mapped my run later that day: 3.5 miles. I was pretty psyched to know that I still had a pretty solid foundation. I think my next step will be to try and find a 10k later this fall. I need a goal to work towards, or my running won’t ever get back on track. Clearly the self-induced guilt-trips aren’t working as often as they should.
Except...I wouldn’t know much about it. Not this fall, at least. Sure, I’ve broken the ice again since my painful summer setback and gotten out there. A whopping three times. Impressive, I know.
I don’t even have an excuse. I set my alarm for 5am with high hopes of waking up and pounding the pavement before work. Oh, Brig. So
I knew this weekend would be a good chance to get out there. I walked outside Saturday morning to a brisk 55 degrees. It was doing that weird misting thing where it wasn’t raining raining, but your hair was damp if you were outside long enough. I almost went back inside, under the guise of not wanting to get my iPod wet. And then the guilt kicked in. Sometimes a good guilt trip is all you need to take those first few steps. And after the first few steps, it’s a wrap.
It ended up being a really great run. I started with one of my standard routes, tweaking it throughout. I ran by my street near the end and thought about heading home. But then a really good song came on and I took it as a sign to keep going. I reasoned that I’d never get my mileage back up if I stopped when I was tired; running through the fatigue builds endurance, right?
I mapped my run later that day: 3.5 miles. I was pretty psyched to know that I still had a pretty solid foundation. I think my next step will be to try and find a 10k later this fall. I need a goal to work towards, or my running won’t ever get back on track. Clearly the self-induced guilt-trips aren’t working as often as they should.
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