I had another one of "those days" today. And I have to admit that I didn't fare so well. When Brian walked in the door at 6:30, I wanted to run for the nearest coffee shop with my laptop and a big huge nonfat pumpkin spice latte.
But I had an hour and a half run that needed to be attended to and Brian looked at me and said "Baby, you have to do this" so I just went.
I wasn't very happy about it. It was raining, getting dark, and I was just plain not in the mood to run. But halfway into that first mile, a switch flipped in my brain. The rain felt good on my skin and smelled amazing. I love the rain. It's calming. Relaxing. Serene.
Cooper settled into a nice little trot next to me and my legs just kept moving and before I knew it, I had run 3 miles and was to my halfway point. I tried not to focus too much on how far I'd come or how far I still needed to run to get home. I just focused on myself in that minute - how my legs felt, how my lungs felt, how my head felt.
And you know what? They were all fine.
So I kept going. Mile 5 was tough. I welcomed crosswalks where I had to wait to cross busy roads and took my time a bit getting across them. Then it was back to my steady pace. Mile 6 was tougher. I had to channel my hubby. I could hear him telling me to stay relaxed, breathe easy, and just let my legs do the work.
When I finally got home, I was so infinitely proud of myself. I had run 6.42 miles in 1 hour and 27 minutes. That's just over 13:30 minutes per mile. That, my friends, is super slow. But you know what? I don't care. I'm a work in progress. I ran my first 5K last spring at a 15 minute per mile pace, so I'm thrilled with 6.42 miles at 13:30 minute pace.
It's days like this that I have to remember when I just don't feel like going out.