I tried something new yesterday: half-way through the run, when I didn't think I had another drop of energy, I asked for help. J could tell I was hurting, and I let myself dwell on the distance and discomfort way too early in the run. So I said, "Help me. Get me through this. " And he did. He reminded me we had less in front of us than we had behind us. He said I was doing great. He said, "This is nothing! You got this!" So I kept going. And I finished.
Since we first ran the whole lake without stopping, our times are improving. In one month, we've dropped NINE minutes off our time. Since running 2.6 miles, we've dropped 4 minutes. The last two runs, there have been brief portions that I enjoyed. I wasn't in pain, it actually felt like a good stretch, a nice "feel the burn" moment. Miraculous.
Fishing season opened last weekend, so the lake is much busier. There are people on the trail and in lawn chairs, wielding fishing poles and swinging hooks over their heads. It's very disconcerting, especially because they hear us coming (what with all that heavy breathing) and they look over their shoulder to see what's bearing down on them. Not so helpful to my self-consciousness. I have to keep reminding myself, "I am a beginner. But I'm running. I might get dirty looks, but I am the one running." I have the urge to defend myself, as if I am obligated to explain why I can't exercise silently, or why I don't look like an REI catalogue, which I dream of.
Like Bob Wiley says to Dr. Leo Marvin, I hear myself whining,
"Come on! I've come so far! I'm not a slacker. I'm doing the work!"
Thanks for cheering me on. Keep the comments coming. In the meantime, I'll keep repeating my favorite motivational comment from my husband: "Pain is just weakness leaving the body."