Battle of Wills
Will I ever like running?
Ever? Maybe? Enough that I don't dread my runs?
I don't know. It's been several years since I overcame my prejudice against running and started training for my very first triathlon. Since then I have kept it up, even though I have been occasionally derailed by things like injuries and pregnancy. I have run my way through the freezing dark, sloshed through puddles, forced my legs against howling wind, limped along with a protesting ankle, and sweat my way through melting humidity. None of that sounds like fun, and it isn't.
So why do I keep doing this?
Last night I was asking myself this question for about the millionth time. Friday nights are hard because Saturday morning is my long run, and each week I seem to dread it more. (Granted, that may be because I am progressively working up to longer distances so I'll be ready for a trail race in early February, as well as the fact that I lost my iPod back in September. Running without music is much worse.) Yet this morning I dutifully laced up my running shoes, bundled S against the cold, and took to the streets pushing the jogging stroller. We made it 7.5 km, just like my training program called for, even though I spent much of the run repeating my most common mantra, "It doesn't matter how fast I am as long as I finish" to keep myself from coming up with an excuse to cut it short and head home. I also resorted to mental arguments such as reminding myself that if Kami and Tara and Eric can survive chemo and radiation treatments, I can surely survive the next 11 minutes until I'm allowed to briefly walk.
Running is a mental battle. A constant struggle between the part of me that likes to be comfortable and the part of me that likes the excitement of finishing a race, the weight loss and the endorphin high when I get done. Yes, that's why I keep doing this. In a nutshell, the natural high and the weight loss without cutting everything out of my diet.
I wonder if winning this regular battle of wills is doing me good in other areas of my life? I hope so. I would like to think that I am building some mental muscle as well as toning my calves. Maybe next time I'm tempted to let negative thinking ruin my day I can remember how persistent I am with running and apply that to other areas of my life. Just because I don't like something doesn't mean I can't succeed at it!
Ever? Maybe? Enough that I don't dread my runs?
I don't know. It's been several years since I overcame my prejudice against running and started training for my very first triathlon. Since then I have kept it up, even though I have been occasionally derailed by things like injuries and pregnancy. I have run my way through the freezing dark, sloshed through puddles, forced my legs against howling wind, limped along with a protesting ankle, and sweat my way through melting humidity. None of that sounds like fun, and it isn't.
So why do I keep doing this?
Last night I was asking myself this question for about the millionth time. Friday nights are hard because Saturday morning is my long run, and each week I seem to dread it more. (Granted, that may be because I am progressively working up to longer distances so I'll be ready for a trail race in early February, as well as the fact that I lost my iPod back in September. Running without music is much worse.) Yet this morning I dutifully laced up my running shoes, bundled S against the cold, and took to the streets pushing the jogging stroller. We made it 7.5 km, just like my training program called for, even though I spent much of the run repeating my most common mantra, "It doesn't matter how fast I am as long as I finish" to keep myself from coming up with an excuse to cut it short and head home. I also resorted to mental arguments such as reminding myself that if Kami and Tara and Eric can survive chemo and radiation treatments, I can surely survive the next 11 minutes until I'm allowed to briefly walk.
Running is a mental battle. A constant struggle between the part of me that likes to be comfortable and the part of me that likes the excitement of finishing a race, the weight loss and the endorphin high when I get done. Yes, that's why I keep doing this. In a nutshell, the natural high and the weight loss without cutting everything out of my diet.
I wonder if winning this regular battle of wills is doing me good in other areas of my life? I hope so. I would like to think that I am building some mental muscle as well as toning my calves. Maybe next time I'm tempted to let negative thinking ruin my day I can remember how persistent I am with running and apply that to other areas of my life. Just because I don't like something doesn't mean I can't succeed at it!
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