I’m a pretty competitive person.
Most people will tell you that. I like winning. I like playing games that I can win. I like being on teams that win. I like playing games where I can win fast. I don’t like games that require time and thoughtful decision making. Forget strategy – just give me speed and a few minutes to blast through and claim victory.
You would think that would make me a pretty determined person. You know, like the athletes around the world that just push themselves to do better until they’re the absolute best. And you would think with my new found hobby of running (or re-established hobby, as I used to be an avid runner), that I would like to beat myself – get better times, run longer, run faster, push myself harder…

I stink at it.

A day ago, I ran what was supposed to be 4.75k at a moderate pace. I’m training to run a 5k in August with Nick and I have to make sure I can finish (and NOT dead last – that’s totally unacceptable). Well, I was determined to run well this day. It was nice and sunny, perfect temperature, I had great shoes and was in high spirits.
But alas…solo runs always go the same way.
For the first few minutes, I’m loving it. I feel good, breathing well, I smile at passersby. I pretty much figure that I could do a half marathon if I just kept going.
10 minutes in, I hate everything. My body whines, my legs cry out from tiredness and I start debating whether or not it was a good idea. 5 minutes later, I’m back to loving it, thinking I could run for miles. Then, I start the push (I shake my head now at this prospect…). I speed up, my music gets a bit quicker on my ipod and I’m sure that people are envying my fantastic running form. Surely I am like a gazelle.
Remarkably, 5 minutes later, I’m back to a world of pain and hurt. When I need it most, my body and mind start a downward spiral to what I call Death to a Winner. My legs ache, cramps fill my ribcage, my face is the color of lava and I’m radiating heat like the earth’s core.
Then, that little voice in my head starts telling me things like “you’ve gone far enough, you can’t make it any further.” “Don’t keep running, this is the worst idea you’ve had all day.” “Everyone that passes you is wondering if your face is going to explode soon…spare yourself the embarrassment and quit.”
The other day, I gave in to this sad little monologue. I agreed whole-heartedly, pushed myself to the next patch of shady pavement and then slowed to a stop. I walked to the side of the road, immediately disappointed in my performance. Had I not still been a kilometer from where I was staying, I may have just coiled up in the drain on the side of the road to wallow in my sorrows.
But I kept going.
And there are days when I don’t give in. There are days when I hear that miserable little song in my brain and I literally fight against it. When I hear those thoughts, I actually speak against it out loud. Which of course, makes me look like a complete mental case as I yell out between huffs, “No!…you can….keep going!…(wheeze)..just a little further….arrgh….let’s go!”
And you know what? It actually works! I can actually push myself to the point of achievement and for the rest of the day (though I’m still glowing red), I feel like a million bucks.
But the best times, are the times when I run with my husband. Ok, well honestly, I’m so terrified to be the last one home that I have no problem quitting or giving up. When he starts moving a little faster, I keep at his heels, not saying a word about the knife of lactic acid stabbing my gut. But the best is when, in my moment of agony, he turns his head and says gently “You’ve got it, dear, you can do it.” And all of a sudden, I believe in life again. I will make it, I will NOT die and if I melt into a puddle at the end, Nick will still be there to pick me up (and won’t have broken a sweat, either, which is absolutely maddening).
I don’t necessarily have a moral to this little tirade – maybe just to say that we all need a little more encouragement. I am my own worst enemy at times, which is why it’s so nice to have the friends, family and husband that I do. And if you’re struggling through something and you wonder why it’s so hard, maybe you just don’t need to do it alone.

I’ve given myself enough inspiration to try again today….sigh. Here goes!

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