So I’ve determined that running just is not for me.
What really sucks is that I’m determined and I always finish what I start. But last night was brutal. I’m visiting a friend in Denver. I knew I needed to do some kind of a run. Last week (Thanksgiving) was tough because of a four-day rain storm and, well, Thanksgiving. Last night I stepped out into 26 degree, relatively thin air. That was, admittedly, a mistake.
But what a discouraging mistake. I had to stop three times in the course of running one measly mile. My lungs were hurting. My hands were numb. When I got back inside a friend texted me.
“You inspired me! I went for a run tonight. First time in three years.”
“How’d you do,” I asked, assuming he would have had the same kind of experience I’d had when first started off three months ago – slow and steady.
“Only two miles in 17 minutes,” he replied.
To review, a man who hasn’t run in three years just ran an 8:30 pace without stops for two miles.
Thanks for that.
Thinking of reevaluating my goals after the 5K next weekend.