Sunday, March 7, 2010
The longest sixty-eight minutes of my life.
And 27 seconds.
That's how long it took me to run five miles today. I say run, but I mean: run, walk, crawl, creep, hobble, drag, limp, jog, wander and hop along. It was HARD. I'm not sure if my body is meant to go that far in one stretch, unless by car or other motorized vehicle.
Nonetheless, I did it. Mainly because I couldn't face going home and telling my adorable husband I didn't do it. He was so excited for me, unlike my six year old who said: "I thought you were supposed to run six miles, Mommy?"
Like running six miles is something easily switched up, instead of running five miles. Like, oh, you know what, I'll have the beef, not the fish. Six miles, not five, thanks but no thanks.
Anyway, I did it. After trying to get that five done on Saturday and pooping out after two, my legs hurting, not injured hurting, just like miserable, tired, out of shape hurting. I gave them a rest and then went back at it today with a modest improvement. I would categorize survival as improvement. The worst is I'm not even out of breath or anything; my heart is OK, it's just these damn legs of mine - they keep screaming out at me, " you think this is easy? you try carrying around six years of spinach dip and Noah's bagels and see how you feel!"
At least that's what I imagine they're saying.
So next weekend is the 1/2 marathon relay Chris and I are doing. I am doing six miles, he is taking seven. Right now, I cannot imagine walking one more step, let alone hundreds more. But at least when it's over, it will be over, so there's that.
The good side? Due to my lameness Saturday, I got over my 10.9 mile goal for the week, hitting a crazy 13 after today.
This pic is of my sweet Reese, the taskmaster after me about my six miles. This is her at the doctor this week. The pediatric group is moving to a new building and I just felt so sad about it. Reese and I were leaving and we saw a tiny newborn on her way in to the office, all in pink, and I looked down at my beautiful, big six year old and all of a sudden I realized how fast the time has flown. The two of us kept looking at the baby's little pink hands and impossibly tiny feet and neither of us could believe anything could ever be so small.
Next Sunday, I will be able to say to my girl, yes, Reese, six miles, yes Reese, I did it. And she will not be surprised. She knew I could do it.
Posted by geralyn broder murray at 9:26 PM