Back in November, I blogged about my dislike of running. Because I am a stubborn and contrary creature, I’ve sporadically attempted to convince myself otherwise: running is great! Look how many people enjoy it! See how effortless they make it look! I could be that person!
Results were not positive.
In spite of that, I signed up for a 5k in March which, alas, I was not able to attend. In spite of that, I signed up for another 5k: the Hard Cider Run. I reckoned I was more likely to actually attend this race because 1. it’s local, 2. part of the post-race swag is alcohol, and 3. since the course is completely off road (meandering through the orchard and surrounding trails), I can be forgiven for slowing to a walk and an abysmal finish time. Safety, you guys.
Once I’d registered, I mustered my determination. Three runs, a week, two-three miles a pop. No big deal. Just enough to get back into some sort of condition, to tweak my endurance. By the way, I signed up on April 22nd. The race is tomorrow, May 9th. That’s just over two weeks, y’all, and life gets in the way. I’ve been taking extra kickboxing classes, and I’ve upped my strength sessions, and I’m doing more HIIT, and I have to enforce one full rest day. Also, funny thing: turns out I still don’t like running. At all. I’m happy to find any reason not to do it (see the beginning of this paragraph). But really, this was becoming ridiculous. I had a 3.2 mile race ahead of me and I’d not run so much as a step. Yesterday (May 7th), I decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather and hit the nearby pasture/boardwalk section of the AT for a little walk/run interval work. Yup. One session of sort-of running two days before the race. Sound training plan.
Look, I know it’s going to be a slog tomorrow. I’m going to be surrounded by people who actually devote time to their running, who enjoy the process, who are stronger and fitter and slimmer and better and actual athletes. For me, though, it’s not about the competition. It’s about being out in the spring sunshine at a beautiful winery, enjoying the company of my friends, finishing the course (albeit slowly) without embarrassing injury, and, savoring that cool, apple-y reward*.
*in a commemorative glass, no less. SWAG!