I've never been good at 'when life gets in the way' kinda stuff, so when I'm training for a race and life gets in the way, I'll admit my reactions are not always the way to go. This past week? Oh my.
It started off with my husband having a potential cancer scare. Not feeling so great, and some wonky test results had us wandering around with that horrible unknown question. While a pre-occupied run might have been a good idea, the thought of facing cancer, and potentially losing yet another loved one to cancer scared me stiff. Literally. I told myself I was not going to stress until I had something to stress about. yeah. right.
Monday night I came home to car trouble. Missed my Tuesday speed workout so I could pick up the rental car. Oh well. What are you gonna do? Three days, a rental car and $1500 later, the car is fixed and all is well, but once again life just got in the way.
Then my mom took a stumble and ended up in the Emergency Room on Thursday. It was minor, she's fine and all is well, but the sheer momentary panic and waiting in the ER was enough to make me go batty-again. Another workout missed, but again, what are you gonna do?
And of course, let's add to that, kiddos birthday party planning for Saturday. Her first sleepover and her nerves and adrenaline were enough to send us all batty. The planning and doing for the party went well, but trying to do it all, was never going to happen. Or so we thought.
The cake topper here is the 11 miles I was facing on Saturday. Never having done that, I was in a sheer panic most of the week. Knowing that I had so much going on, my nerves were shot, my sleep was jacked, I was in a state of mind that felt like drowning.
Not to mention about 2 hours after my 11 miler, I'd be expecting about 25 family and friends to show up for the day party. Good God. What have I done.
With roughly 7 hours of sleep between Friday and Saturday, by the grace of God, I survived it all.
By the time Sunday came around, my exhausted mind started to wonder if I could consider this training. It was pushing my body past anything normal, I was managing to figure out how to do it, and.... I didn't even cry! Don't I get points for that or something?
I'm not proud to admit I did not even try to make up for any lost workouts.
I'm not proud to admit I reacted with the stress by eating like a fraternity.
I'm not proud to admit I thought of quitting training all together, because it's too hard.
I'm not proud to admit I cursed myself for getting myself into this nonsense of running a half.
yet...I'm proud to admit that I did it.
I'm proud to admit that I didn't give in to my thoughts and quit.
I'm proud to admit that I can admit it all...the good, the bad, the ugly.
I'm proud to admit that I didn't even cry.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Monday, February 25, 2013
Touched by A Runner
It seems to be happening more and more. I'm sincerely touched by a runner.
I'm terribly lucky to live in a city of Rivers and winding, long bike trails and levees to run on. These bike trails are also used by walkers, runners, children taking a picnic and swimmers, looking for the next swimming access. It's these paths that I've spent a majority of my time training on this session and it's opened my eyes to a side of running I never really knew before.
This past Saturday was a perfect example. As I trudged along, I'm sure looking at least a tiny bit pathetic, I lost count how many runners ran past me and gave me a comment to boost:
" You look great"
" Atta girl, don't stop"
" You are doin' it!"
" Way to go, young lady"
" Good job"
" Excellent form!"
" That was a great transition"
" Keep going, you are awesome"
All words from people I don't know. It absolutely astounds me.
Never before have I encountered this kind of support from strangers. Lord knows why. Maybe I was the introvert? Being a big chick, I never wanted that kind of attention on me, so I introverted? Who knows. In any case, I both love it and want to crawl in a hole when I hear it.
It does honestly make me feel good to hear the kindness. Absolutely. Yet on the same note, I don't like the attention on me, so it also makes me want to disappear. I guess if I had my choice, I'd simply stay invisible while I run. But then to miss those comments that are so kind...
In the world today, it seems everything is getting nasty. Jobs are scarce, money is tight, abundance is hard to find, the stress and pressure people are feeling and facing is making it an ugly ugly world. Stress and pressure, unhappiness do not make for the nicest of humans, no?
So to get this little gem, even if it were once a month on a run, would still be worth it. When a runner is out there running, it doesn't matter to him/her if the person they are passing wears thrift store vs. designer, single vs. divorced, in debt vs.rich, a chocolate addict vs. afraid of caffeine.
It's as if nothing else matters and the only thing you get respect for is what you are doing: running.
Runners know how hard it is. Whether they are 16 years old or have been in 860 marathons, they know. Even if it's no longer terribly hard for them, they know when it's hard for someone to push on. The fact that people push through the hard seems to give instant respect and gratitude simply for doing what they choose to do.
What a beautiful thing this is.
I'm terribly lucky to live in a city of Rivers and winding, long bike trails and levees to run on. These bike trails are also used by walkers, runners, children taking a picnic and swimmers, looking for the next swimming access. It's these paths that I've spent a majority of my time training on this session and it's opened my eyes to a side of running I never really knew before.
This past Saturday was a perfect example. As I trudged along, I'm sure looking at least a tiny bit pathetic, I lost count how many runners ran past me and gave me a comment to boost:
" You look great"
" Atta girl, don't stop"
" You are doin' it!"
" Way to go, young lady"
" Good job"
" Excellent form!"
" That was a great transition"
" Keep going, you are awesome"
All words from people I don't know. It absolutely astounds me.
Never before have I encountered this kind of support from strangers. Lord knows why. Maybe I was the introvert? Being a big chick, I never wanted that kind of attention on me, so I introverted? Who knows. In any case, I both love it and want to crawl in a hole when I hear it.
It does honestly make me feel good to hear the kindness. Absolutely. Yet on the same note, I don't like the attention on me, so it also makes me want to disappear. I guess if I had my choice, I'd simply stay invisible while I run. But then to miss those comments that are so kind...
In the world today, it seems everything is getting nasty. Jobs are scarce, money is tight, abundance is hard to find, the stress and pressure people are feeling and facing is making it an ugly ugly world. Stress and pressure, unhappiness do not make for the nicest of humans, no?
So to get this little gem, even if it were once a month on a run, would still be worth it. When a runner is out there running, it doesn't matter to him/her if the person they are passing wears thrift store vs. designer, single vs. divorced, in debt vs.rich, a chocolate addict vs. afraid of caffeine.
It's as if nothing else matters and the only thing you get respect for is what you are doing: running.
Runners know how hard it is. Whether they are 16 years old or have been in 860 marathons, they know. Even if it's no longer terribly hard for them, they know when it's hard for someone to push on. The fact that people push through the hard seems to give instant respect and gratitude simply for doing what they choose to do.
What a beautiful thing this is.
The Educated Runner
When I first started my program back in January 2012, I dubbed it 'running school' in order to simplify the training program description to others who didnt really know or care to know what it was. Indeed, I did consider it 'school' as I was 'learning' how to run. Never before had I known there was a proper 'way' to run. Fast forward more than a year later and I'm still learning. While training for the half marathon, it seems that every single run I'm experiencing something new to figure out.
This week I learned about the dreaded Garmin Battery fail. I could throw things at myself for being dumb. I failed to even check the battery level of my beloved Garmin and it died 2 miles before finishing. damndamndamn. Oh well.
One week it was the bitter cold, one week it was a gastro-intestinal war, one week is was extreme hunger, dead batteries, sand in the shoes, more fuel needed, skipped bathroom opportunities...my God, it never ever ends, does it!?
But overall, it's a bit exciting. With more experience and more knowledge, the more I delve into the world of runners, the more I learn. There's still a lot to experience, there's still a lot to see, learn and do.
I've been reading so much on running lately and while some of it's just auto-biographies, useful, practical tips, some of it is just...mind blowing. In Born To Run, there's a section on UltraRunning, a 100 mile race. My God. 100 miles? And all the while, I'm terribly impressed with my 9 miles thus far. 'Oy.
I'm loving The Rules of Running while it's a bit on the comedy side, it's actually got some good tips, likely that which won't be seen in the likes of " Runners World" Discussions of farting, blowing snot rockets, and the like. The real stuff. It's a fun read thus far with some excellent suggestions.
Between the experience, the coaching, the upped mileage, the peeps, the books on sports psychology, practical tips, autobiographies of 'been there, done that' and more, I love learning about the sport. As someone who loved college, school in general and a self professed book nerd, this is one more arena of learning I'm loving.
This week I learned about the dreaded Garmin Battery fail. I could throw things at myself for being dumb. I failed to even check the battery level of my beloved Garmin and it died 2 miles before finishing. damndamndamn. Oh well.
One week it was the bitter cold, one week it was a gastro-intestinal war, one week is was extreme hunger, dead batteries, sand in the shoes, more fuel needed, skipped bathroom opportunities...my God, it never ever ends, does it!?
But overall, it's a bit exciting. With more experience and more knowledge, the more I delve into the world of runners, the more I learn. There's still a lot to experience, there's still a lot to see, learn and do.
I've been reading so much on running lately and while some of it's just auto-biographies, useful, practical tips, some of it is just...mind blowing. In Born To Run, there's a section on UltraRunning, a 100 mile race. My God. 100 miles? And all the while, I'm terribly impressed with my 9 miles thus far. 'Oy.
I'm loving The Rules of Running while it's a bit on the comedy side, it's actually got some good tips, likely that which won't be seen in the likes of " Runners World" Discussions of farting, blowing snot rockets, and the like. The real stuff. It's a fun read thus far with some excellent suggestions.
Between the experience, the coaching, the upped mileage, the peeps, the books on sports psychology, practical tips, autobiographies of 'been there, done that' and more, I love learning about the sport. As someone who loved college, school in general and a self professed book nerd, this is one more arena of learning I'm loving.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
It's All Relative.
I started reading " Born To Run", thus far about the Tarahumara people and their amazing running abilities. I read a part about a super human 100 mile run, where the aid stations/bathrooms were about every 15 miles.
Wait. About ever 15 MILES? omigod.
I had to read that over about four times for it to really sink in. That would be the same as my upcoming half marathon having no aid stations at all. The thought absolutely horrified me. Then it occurred to me that on this upcoming 9 mile training run, I understood there to be only one bathroom at the 1/2 mile mark. When I heard this, I specifically told Koach Kutie 'that's insane. Seriously?'
I silently objected like there was no tomorrow. Had I thought there was any point in doing so, I would have bitched and moaned about it from here until Saturday.
No, rather I'm just looking at it as one more thing to challenge myself, to see how well I can pull this off. It might be a horrendous experience, I might learn how others do it, I might learn that I should carry kleenex with me on all runs. Who knows? While I'm deathly afraid of repeating last weeks gastro-intestinal horror, I'll still forge on. Somehow. Imodium anyone? Yeah, I'm only part kidding.
Reading about the every-15-mile-aid race got me to thinking. People actually do that. Okay, well not this people, but other people do it. The thought of doing anything more than 13.1 miles is absolutely insane, scary and almost foreign to me. But people actually do things like that. Amazing.
What's even more amazing is that the human body can do it. It's been proven time and time again just how far the human body can be physically pushed. Even without the comfort of an aid station every time you need it.
In World War II, an airman by the name of Louis Zamperini was lost at sea for a grueling [something like ] 45 days. No food, no fresh water, only sea. Battling hunger, a fellow airman dying, no rescue in sight. After that, he was captured by the enemy and held as a POW for [something like] three years. Starved, beaten, living in horrendous conditions not even fit for an animal...and he survived. Did I mention that Louis Zamerini was also an Olympic runner? *
There are still situations in the world that make it simply amazing how much the human body can endure. I believe for many of us, it's the mind that has the catching up to do. Why we can't just wait and see is kinda beyond me. Do what we intend to do and see what happens. Can we actually do that? The fear of the unknown is a factor for myself, I get that. But knowing that the human body can endure so much more than we give it credit for might help just a little.
I'm truly hoping as I conquer my 9 miles this weekend that I'll have the clarity to remember people like the Tarahumara 'running people' and Louis Zamperini and recall what they have pushed themselves to do. I'm hoping that when I need to 'go' about mile 2,4,6,7,8, I'll remember that I'm not going to die if I don't get instant relief. I'm not going to have to go another 12 miles with no relief. That in the case of a severe need, I'll simply remember the Kleenex and hop behind a bush. A little uncomfortable? Oh get over it. It's not a permanent thing, it may never be repeated. Push yourself to hard. And who knows? The rest of it might seem relatively easy.
* because I don't want to get sued, I'll add these details might not be entirely correct. This is only a gist, a summary of the book "Unbroken" By Laura Hilenbrand. An amazing story I could not put down!
Wait. About ever 15 MILES? omigod.
I had to read that over about four times for it to really sink in. That would be the same as my upcoming half marathon having no aid stations at all. The thought absolutely horrified me. Then it occurred to me that on this upcoming 9 mile training run, I understood there to be only one bathroom at the 1/2 mile mark. When I heard this, I specifically told Koach Kutie 'that's insane. Seriously?'
I silently objected like there was no tomorrow. Had I thought there was any point in doing so, I would have bitched and moaned about it from here until Saturday.
No, rather I'm just looking at it as one more thing to challenge myself, to see how well I can pull this off. It might be a horrendous experience, I might learn how others do it, I might learn that I should carry kleenex with me on all runs. Who knows? While I'm deathly afraid of repeating last weeks gastro-intestinal horror, I'll still forge on. Somehow. Imodium anyone? Yeah, I'm only part kidding.
Reading about the every-15-mile-aid race got me to thinking. People actually do that. Okay, well not this people, but other people do it. The thought of doing anything more than 13.1 miles is absolutely insane, scary and almost foreign to me. But people actually do things like that. Amazing.
What's even more amazing is that the human body can do it. It's been proven time and time again just how far the human body can be physically pushed. Even without the comfort of an aid station every time you need it.
In World War II, an airman by the name of Louis Zamperini was lost at sea for a grueling [something like ] 45 days. No food, no fresh water, only sea. Battling hunger, a fellow airman dying, no rescue in sight. After that, he was captured by the enemy and held as a POW for [something like] three years. Starved, beaten, living in horrendous conditions not even fit for an animal...and he survived. Did I mention that Louis Zamerini was also an Olympic runner? *
There are still situations in the world that make it simply amazing how much the human body can endure. I believe for many of us, it's the mind that has the catching up to do. Why we can't just wait and see is kinda beyond me. Do what we intend to do and see what happens. Can we actually do that? The fear of the unknown is a factor for myself, I get that. But knowing that the human body can endure so much more than we give it credit for might help just a little.
I'm truly hoping as I conquer my 9 miles this weekend that I'll have the clarity to remember people like the Tarahumara 'running people' and Louis Zamperini and recall what they have pushed themselves to do. I'm hoping that when I need to 'go' about mile 2,4,6,7,8, I'll remember that I'm not going to die if I don't get instant relief. I'm not going to have to go another 12 miles with no relief. That in the case of a severe need, I'll simply remember the Kleenex and hop behind a bush. A little uncomfortable? Oh get over it. It's not a permanent thing, it may never be repeated. Push yourself to hard. And who knows? The rest of it might seem relatively easy.
* because I don't want to get sued, I'll add these details might not be entirely correct. This is only a gist, a summary of the book "Unbroken" By Laura Hilenbrand. An amazing story I could not put down!
Monday, February 18, 2013
The Epic Battle
Saturday I had my longest run ever. 8.2 miles. As prepared as I was not, I did it anyway. Little did I know this would be a run most memorable for the worst reasons. As soon as I got to the meeting spot for a 7 am run, my gastro-intestal organs started arguing. By the time the run actually started, it launched on a full on war. So very very uncool.
I recalled my thought process on a day like to day. It went something like this:
Oh, that doesn't sound good. Was that MY stomach? Uh oh. Uhh...did I eat something I shouldn't have before a run last night? Well of course I did. Don't I always? Yup. That's me. Dumbass.
So wait, why am I doing this again? This is effin' hard. I'm tired. I slept well, but damn this is hard. I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't. I'm done. I could turn around right now and...oh damn, I'm going to need that bathroom stop. How far away? omigod. I've only gone a half mile? Another mile to the bathroom. OK, speed it up to get there quicker. omigod! No. Extra fast juggling of innards is NOT going to help. I could be in real trouble here. So OK, why am I doing this? It's too hard. I don't wanna. It's not like it helps anything. Ok, plenty of bushes I could jump behind for relief, but I have no tissue. Not going to work. So, what makes me do this? I feel worse because everyone always passes me, I'm too slow. Not helping my esteem. I'm going to talk to Coach Cutie. I'll ask her why I'm doing this. Oh whatever. If I don't know she sure as hell isn't going to know. omigod. Bathroom. Now.
I finally did reach the bathroom, after the ever important struggle of do I go extra fast and juggle things around or just go slow? I made the ever important realization that I do not have the skill of clenching and running. Nope. I wonder if they'll teach that? That was a bad bad experience.
OK, much much better. Now I'll be able to catch up. Whew. That was a close one. God, what would I have done if.....no. don't even go there. Okay, time for a Gu! Vanilla Gu. Huh, not bad, but kinda... Yick. Nah. I'll stick with the chocolate. It might look like pooh, but it tastes like frosting.
God, this is hard. Why am I doing this? What did that last blog post say? Because it's hard? What the hell did I mean? I don't even understand that. Forget it. That's not it.
So what if I quit? What if I DIDN'T do the race? No biggie. Would people judge? How would that feel? Oh hell, you and I both know I'd never forgive myself. Wait, you and I? Who the hell else is in here? Uh oh. Oh I'm crazy now. It must be the fatigue. I'd better stop and lie down now. No, that's embarrassing. Omigod. Only one more mile until turn around. hell yes! Omigod. Bathroom. Now.
Okay, only three more miles until I'm done. God, I'm tired. Where is that G*& D*&^ porta potty?That homeless guy on a bike. I wonder if I offered him a twenty if he'd give me his bike. Riding would be easier and faster at this point. Damn, no cash on me. Okay mental note to carry cash for emergency bike purchases. yes. That's a good idea. Omigod. Bathroom. Now.
How do these skinny little high school boys make this look so easy? Oh yeah, they are like what, 14? Yeah. Okay.
I will say that seeing the bathroom/porta potties on this particular run was like seeing Mecca. Beautiful. I've never ever been so incredibly glad to see a smelly, plastic box containing so much gross.
But I did it. And my clothing stayed clean, I did not humiliate myself on the bike trail. I didn't even puke!! Woo hoo!!! By far the biggest success yet. I did it. I did it. I did it.
I recalled my thought process on a day like to day. It went something like this:
Oh, that doesn't sound good. Was that MY stomach? Uh oh. Uhh...did I eat something I shouldn't have before a run last night? Well of course I did. Don't I always? Yup. That's me. Dumbass.
So wait, why am I doing this again? This is effin' hard. I'm tired. I slept well, but damn this is hard. I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't. I'm done. I could turn around right now and...oh damn, I'm going to need that bathroom stop. How far away? omigod. I've only gone a half mile? Another mile to the bathroom. OK, speed it up to get there quicker. omigod! No. Extra fast juggling of innards is NOT going to help. I could be in real trouble here. So OK, why am I doing this? It's too hard. I don't wanna. It's not like it helps anything. Ok, plenty of bushes I could jump behind for relief, but I have no tissue. Not going to work. So, what makes me do this? I feel worse because everyone always passes me, I'm too slow. Not helping my esteem. I'm going to talk to Coach Cutie. I'll ask her why I'm doing this. Oh whatever. If I don't know she sure as hell isn't going to know. omigod. Bathroom. Now.
I finally did reach the bathroom, after the ever important struggle of do I go extra fast and juggle things around or just go slow? I made the ever important realization that I do not have the skill of clenching and running. Nope. I wonder if they'll teach that? That was a bad bad experience.
OK, much much better. Now I'll be able to catch up. Whew. That was a close one. God, what would I have done if.....no. don't even go there. Okay, time for a Gu! Vanilla Gu. Huh, not bad, but kinda... Yick. Nah. I'll stick with the chocolate. It might look like pooh, but it tastes like frosting.
God, this is hard. Why am I doing this? What did that last blog post say? Because it's hard? What the hell did I mean? I don't even understand that. Forget it. That's not it.
So what if I quit? What if I DIDN'T do the race? No biggie. Would people judge? How would that feel? Oh hell, you and I both know I'd never forgive myself. Wait, you and I? Who the hell else is in here? Uh oh. Oh I'm crazy now. It must be the fatigue. I'd better stop and lie down now. No, that's embarrassing. Omigod. Only one more mile until turn around. hell yes! Omigod. Bathroom. Now.
Okay, only three more miles until I'm done. God, I'm tired. Where is that G*& D*&^ porta potty?That homeless guy on a bike. I wonder if I offered him a twenty if he'd give me his bike. Riding would be easier and faster at this point. Damn, no cash on me. Okay mental note to carry cash for emergency bike purchases. yes. That's a good idea. Omigod. Bathroom. Now.
How do these skinny little high school boys make this look so easy? Oh yeah, they are like what, 14? Yeah. Okay.
I will say that seeing the bathroom/porta potties on this particular run was like seeing Mecca. Beautiful. I've never ever been so incredibly glad to see a smelly, plastic box containing so much gross.
But I did it. And my clothing stayed clean, I did not humiliate myself on the bike trail. I didn't even puke!! Woo hoo!!! By far the biggest success yet. I did it. I did it. I did it.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Me, the Mental Moron?
It's times like this when I really do question my own sanity, thoughts, and outlooks on all this running jazz.
Coach Cutie, asked how everyone felt on the last 7 miler. No one really said much, but one piped up with a groan. I didn't hear all of what was said, but it sounded like it was miserable for her. I think I heard the world horrible.
Seriously? From my point of view, it looked like she had been running for years. How could it be horrible? Why would it be hard? She's in shape! She's got amazing legs!
This is where my thinking is so skewed. Of course it's hard for her. What, like it's only hard for me? Oh, so it's harder for me because I'm old and fat? Oh yeah, that's it. Moron!
How and why do I STILL think like this?
Sometimes, if I could, I'd like to smack myself upside the head.
I suppose, after some thought that it does come down to low self esteem? Maybe I don't truly see myself as a runner because I've still got a lot of weight on me? This is actually a hard call for me, because I do tend to feel really amazing about myself for what I've accomplished. I've long accepted that I'm still 'new' at this, I'm not fast, I'm not mighty....and I'm okay with that! So then why do I constantly pull myself down like I do? I may never know the answer.
It's not that everyone else makes it look easy, in my mind, I know it's hard for everyone. If it were easy, everyone would do it. I guess I figure I struggle more than anyone else, because at times I kinda do think I'm an inherently lazy person, playing dress up as a runner. I don't know what exactly it will take to get my mind caught up with the game...perhaps time will tell.
Here's to hoping.
Coach Cutie, asked how everyone felt on the last 7 miler. No one really said much, but one piped up with a groan. I didn't hear all of what was said, but it sounded like it was miserable for her. I think I heard the world horrible.
Seriously? From my point of view, it looked like she had been running for years. How could it be horrible? Why would it be hard? She's in shape! She's got amazing legs!
This is where my thinking is so skewed. Of course it's hard for her. What, like it's only hard for me? Oh, so it's harder for me because I'm old and fat? Oh yeah, that's it. Moron!
How and why do I STILL think like this?
Sometimes, if I could, I'd like to smack myself upside the head.
I suppose, after some thought that it does come down to low self esteem? Maybe I don't truly see myself as a runner because I've still got a lot of weight on me? This is actually a hard call for me, because I do tend to feel really amazing about myself for what I've accomplished. I've long accepted that I'm still 'new' at this, I'm not fast, I'm not mighty....and I'm okay with that! So then why do I constantly pull myself down like I do? I may never know the answer.
It's not that everyone else makes it look easy, in my mind, I know it's hard for everyone. If it were easy, everyone would do it. I guess I figure I struggle more than anyone else, because at times I kinda do think I'm an inherently lazy person, playing dress up as a runner. I don't know what exactly it will take to get my mind caught up with the game...perhaps time will tell.
Here's to hoping.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
No One Cares? Really?
I've seen it twice now. The statement that no one ( or at least non-runners) don't care about your latest PR, your latest mileage increase. None of it.
Really? God, that's so sad!
But I find it's true. Even when people appear to be interested, they seemingly stop listening, walk away or get that far away 'im now thinking of puppies' look. Yesterday, I had someone at work ask how the latest 7 miles was. When I started to say " It was tough, but I did it." too late, already gone by the time the word 'tough' got out of my mouth. Almighty then. Moving on.
I've noticed this kind of thing before, so I try to be very very cautious not to bring it up where I don't think it's welcome information. In the office, for example, I don't bring it up, unless someone asks. But that's when I notice it, still....so I'd kinda like to yell at them If you don't want to know, DON'T ASK! Is that not obvious?
I guess it can go along the same lines as asking about a new baby or puppy or new home construction. But common sense would tell me, if you aren't interested, don't ask for crying out loud. It's kind of a "don't ask, don't tell" thing, I suppose.
A part of me gets disappointed in this truth, because I'm one who needs to toot my own horn. Just a bit, here and there, because the more I say it, the more even I believe it. Sometimes it's just nice to hear that "good job" even if you know they don't mean it. It's not that I look for validation for the running that I do, but if I'm being honest here, I'm impressed with myself some days. I often fear I'm truly a lazy person at heart so even that slow 2 miler is impressive to me some days. I'm proud of myself. I want to shout from the rooftops " Hey! I wasn't lazy today!"
Talking to other runners for me, some days is even worse. That mighty marathoner who runs at the speed of light will say "hey that's a good start" when discussing your latest 6 mile feat that nearly killed you. A good start? No, this is a lifelong achievement that will be on my tombstone, thank you very much. Sigh. Then there's the beginner who can't relate. A one miler seems impossible, so a 6 miler may as well be a 120 miler. I suppose it's all relative.
Overall, no, the outsider opinion, validation, encouragement shouldn't be needed. For some, it is. Some days it's what we need to give us a push. When it's not there, it's not there. Nothing we can do about it, except press on and keep that little secret to yourself. When remembering my little 'secret' about my new found and increasing abilities, I find it gives me a boost, a push and a reason to hold my head a little higher.
Really? God, that's so sad!
But I find it's true. Even when people appear to be interested, they seemingly stop listening, walk away or get that far away 'im now thinking of puppies' look. Yesterday, I had someone at work ask how the latest 7 miles was. When I started to say " It was tough, but I did it." too late, already gone by the time the word 'tough' got out of my mouth. Almighty then. Moving on.
I've noticed this kind of thing before, so I try to be very very cautious not to bring it up where I don't think it's welcome information. In the office, for example, I don't bring it up, unless someone asks. But that's when I notice it, still....so I'd kinda like to yell at them If you don't want to know, DON'T ASK! Is that not obvious?
I guess it can go along the same lines as asking about a new baby or puppy or new home construction. But common sense would tell me, if you aren't interested, don't ask for crying out loud. It's kind of a "don't ask, don't tell" thing, I suppose.
A part of me gets disappointed in this truth, because I'm one who needs to toot my own horn. Just a bit, here and there, because the more I say it, the more even I believe it. Sometimes it's just nice to hear that "good job" even if you know they don't mean it. It's not that I look for validation for the running that I do, but if I'm being honest here, I'm impressed with myself some days. I often fear I'm truly a lazy person at heart so even that slow 2 miler is impressive to me some days. I'm proud of myself. I want to shout from the rooftops " Hey! I wasn't lazy today!"
Talking to other runners for me, some days is even worse. That mighty marathoner who runs at the speed of light will say "hey that's a good start" when discussing your latest 6 mile feat that nearly killed you. A good start? No, this is a lifelong achievement that will be on my tombstone, thank you very much. Sigh. Then there's the beginner who can't relate. A one miler seems impossible, so a 6 miler may as well be a 120 miler. I suppose it's all relative.
Overall, no, the outsider opinion, validation, encouragement shouldn't be needed. For some, it is. Some days it's what we need to give us a push. When it's not there, it's not there. Nothing we can do about it, except press on and keep that little secret to yourself. When remembering my little 'secret' about my new found and increasing abilities, I find it gives me a boost, a push and a reason to hold my head a little higher.
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