Running, such a mental game we play...

I may have run the best 4 miles of my life last night.  


"Um, Katie... you know you have to complete that PLUS 22.2, right?"


Friends, I'm workin' on it.  Rome was not built in a day, nor were my legs prepped overnight to carry me from Temple, Texas to Jarrell, Texas on I-35 (a little marathon distance perspective for my Southern people).  If I think of that chunk of miles all at once, I will crawl into a hole.  So for now, 4 miles is the victory.


Fortunately for me, I've figured out that running is almost more of a mental challenge than a physical challenge.  If my mind is in the right place, I feel strong, well-trained, invincible-- I could run for days!  But if I go into a workout with negative thoughts, thinking of how tired I am, how my shins have been bothering me, my legs are antsy-feeling at night, it's too muggy/rainy/hot/sticky, that I just don't WANT to run today... I'm doomed from the get-go.  


Last night I had 4 easy miles on the schedule and I BATTLED to go out and do it.  I knew there was no way I was going to get on the treadmill, which left me with heading to the local high school track.  I finally left the apartment at 7:15, walked out of the front door... and into the rain.


Challenge 1: I know my feet will not move on a treadmill tonight.  Do I dare run in the rain?  It's not like they'll cancel the marathon if it rains, so I might as well practice in it now.  


Straight to the car I went.  As I drove, the steady drizzle started to come down in sheets and then buckets.  "I won't melt.  I won't melt.  I won't melt."


Challenge 2: I'm not a fan of running at the track in the evenings if there aren't many people around.  It's safe enough but still... that would not be keeping my guard up (thanks, Dad!).  As I pull in, I notice there aren't many people there.  Maybe I should-- hm.  Maybe I should notice that three cars just drove in behind me and they appear to be here to run as well.


Leaving my iPod in the car knowing it would just get soaked, I headed to my starting line.


Challenge 3: I might go crazy if I think of the fact that 4 miles around this track equals 16 laps.  Repetition is what kills my track runs when I'm not doing speedwork.  Wait a sec!  Perhaps I'll tell myself that I'm running 16 MILES instead of LAPS.  


And so I did.  As I passed my starting point time and time and time again, I was saying to myself "Yes, mile 11!  You're fabulous!  If you hit 13 you've run half of the distance of a marathon!" instead of "Oh my word, that's lap 2 of mile 2, so I have 10 laps left-- shoot me now!"


I'm glad that only I heard the cheering inside my head.  And I'm not delusional.  I am fully aware that 4 miles is nothing like 16, but that mind game is what it took to get me around the track, on pace and with good form and a great outlook.  It was amazing.  I FELT amazing and I can't lie-- I feel pretty pissed to be running sometimes... but not last night.  


Everything perfectly aligned and as I ran in the rain without my music and listened to my steady, practiced breathing and the strike of my foot on the soft track; as I kept the rhythm of my comfortable, easy pace and noticed I felt no aches or pains where I usually do... I couldn't help but smile--  I'm a runner.  I am a legitimate runner, and while my perfect run last night may have only been a fraction of what I will face on November 4th, it showed me what I'm capable of doing, what my body is capable of doing...


... and how far I've come from the days in elementary school when I used to spin myself on the tire swing to get out of running to the fence and back.  I suppose there's a learning curve for everyone when it comes to athleticism...