I ran 4 miles today and in all honesty that is great. I mean, I never in a million years ever thought I could run 4 miles. I’m the gal who used to hyperventilate 10 minutes into a run and would have to run/walk a whole mile. And here I am running 4 miles and thinking I could do more. I’m all proud of myself and feeling euphoric and strong thinking I could go on forever and that 13 miles won’t be that difficult after all, But….
There is a reason they tell you to never increase your run more than 10-percent each week. I made the 4 miles, sure, and I felt great at that 4 mile mark, but the last mile and a half walk home (did I mention it’s all uphill?) I was feeling pain in parts of my body I didn’t even know existed. My ass hurt (Or at least that weird part of your body where your ass meets the top of your leg.) The backs of my knees hurt. Muscles in my hips were popping and my knees were making some sort of gurgling sensation. When I finally made it home I was so, so, so very nauseous I wasn’t sure if I should throw up or drink vodka; and for the first time in my life stretching felt like torture. Oh, and Matt had to help me stretch because I couldn’t actually do it on my own. (I understand the Inquisition now.) The muscles in my legs felt like they were going to pop out of my skin like in Alien. In the end, I was too tired to stand in the shower so I took a bath just so I could sit.
My mother thinks I’m overdoing it and keeps questioning my motive to run a half marathon. Kim, one of my favorite instructors jokingly asked me if I couldn’t just donate money and call it a day. And then my good friend Elizabeth reminded me that I was also training to become a Body Pump instructor and asked if could I do both at the same time (Eddie we need to talk). I mean, I’m not training for an Iron Man, but after today I am questioning how I’m going to pull this all off without my mom worrying. I guess we’ll soon enough see. For now, I’ll keep plugging away until I can’t do it anymore. After I throw up first of course.