It’s 8:11 a.m. and I’ve run 8.58 miles (which included 5 x 1200 at an average of 7:45 pace), showered, had breakfast, drank coffee, made my kids’ lunches, read e-mail, and am now writing a quick blog. What have you done so far today?
Seriously, though, I’m at the point of my marathon training where I kind of dread the next workout, although when I’m actually doing them, I’m moving pretty much by rote. I was talking about this with my friend A.M. on our Saturday run (14 miles, 9:23 pace), how your legs can be moving but it’s as if they’re moving on your own–you’re completely disconnected from them. I feel that way about my workouts in general. I don’t set an alarm anymore; my body just wakes itself around 5 a.m. I roll out of bed without even thinking about it, dress, eat a banana, have some water, and then head out the door. I’m barely aware of what I’m doing. I just go. I only run three days a week, although I cross train the other two. Boot camp one day–that’s easy as it’s already part of the schedule. I’m having problems coming up with what the other day of cross-training is. I alternate between biking and walking, although I’m hoping to add some yoga in.
I keep a poster in my office from my first marathon that reads, “At 18 miles you wonder why you do this. At 26.2 it all becomes perfectly clear.” I feel that way these days. I’m running, I’m running, I’m running, and I think, “Why? How ridiculous is this, a woman in her 40s running and running and running and where does it get me?”
But then I remind myself. I do it to be healthy (although I’m at the other dreaded point in my training where I start adding on weight–always happens). I do it to set a good example for my kids. I do it because I love that feeling of crossing a finish line, of completing a goal. I do it to hang another medal onto my collection. It’s just what I do.
So when the next line on my training schedule says 5 miles at an 8:30 pace, that’s what I’ll be doing. And I’ll just keep telling myself, “One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other,” until I have another medal to hang.
