I signed up to run a half marathon with some girlfriends recently. And I'm discovering that when you don't run as often as you are supposed to, and follow 'the plan'... that it really hinders the ability to make that weekly long run that just gets longer... and longer... and LONGER.
I live on top of a mountain. Today, realizing that I was behind in my running, I decided to run down and up the mountain at least twice, which is over a mile. I've never actually done this before, and you see... I'm from the plains of Texas, where a hill is really more like a bump that you can't see over when you're driving. So when I went outside and started to run down the mountain, I almost fell flat on my face when the mountain quickly started to carry me down... almost to my knees... it was so fast.
The fun part came once I turned around to make my way back up... I think there's a reason why they say you "climb" a mountain. I really don't think they were meant to be run. I made it half-way up before I started to feel like my lungs were going to explode and my thighs and knees were ripping with pain. Somehow, I made it to the top of the mountain between running and walking and half dying on the way!
Don't ask me why... but I did it a second time. Only made it half-way up that time and had to stop and catch my breath, knowing that I was two seconds from hitting a dead faint with the sun beating down hard on me in the early afternoon. (And NO, I'm NOT being dramatic! LOL)
Needless to say, I will not be running the driveway again. Climbing? YES. Running? NO WAY!
The good news is... after another 3 1/2 mile run today, I believe I've earned a bit of reprieve. I'm enjoying a nice cocktail with my hubby, virtually guilt-free, and slowly starting to feel the pain seep into my muscles.
Pain... sweet pain. Actual proof of me actively trying. Right?
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