12 and Done!

My feet are killing me. My stomach is in knots. My arms are even sore and I'm exhausted. Finishing the twelve miles this week was tough, I'm not going to lie. During last week's eleven mile run I took a different route and avoided doing any major hills. This week I decided I wanted to be ready for anything the race might throw my way and that included hills, so I took them on. I keep wishing I knew what the course looked like so I could know that I'm not doing all of that for nothing. Between the hills and wind this week, it was hard. I am so sick of the wind here. Every run I've done for the last two weeks has had the wind holding me back. Satan's winds I call them. I chant a string of profanity in my head cursing the winds, cursing this place as I run. The funny thing is, I am sure when it's the dead of summer, 100 degrees out and I am begging for a tiny breeze, the trees will stand still. But now that it is nice running weather there has to be something to interfere with that. Nothing comes easy right? And if it was easy then why would I even care so much about doing it? If it was easy, then everyone could and would do it and it would be no great accomplishment.

I hate running far from my house so this is why I feel it's necessary sometimes to push myself to leave my comfort zone. Today I was five miles from home at one point and more than a little relieved when I finally turned back to head home. At that point, even though I had more miles to run, it was like I had already run them because I knew I would have to get home. I don't carry my cell phone with me on runs so it's all up to me to get it done. By the time I was back in my neighborhood I had four miles left to go! It felt like an eternity. The wind had really kicked up and I started to feel defeated. I thought maybe I would just do eleven miles again this week. After all, I feel pretty confident that if I can do eleven miles, I could do thirteen during the race. But mentally I wanted to know that I had run twelve miles before my race because I'll add just one more mile to that. That seems very doable (running is so mental for me most of the time). The last three miles were death. I just counted them off in my head, keeping a very slow pace and not caring if I met my goal time or not. I just wanted to finish. By the time I was under one mile to go I just wanted to cry. My feet hurt so bad and my body was falling apart. I wanted to break into tears, but I promised myself I could let it all out when it was over.

My family was there to meet me at the door with water and hugs. I collapsed on the couch and felt my emotions bubble up into tears. I just had to take a minute to cry. It was so HARD. I know there's a reason I am doing all this and I am proud of all I have accomplished. I never thought of running as difficult before. Now I know how truly wrong that was. Making your feet move at a running pace for over two hours is HARD. Pushing through pain is HARD. Overcoming mental obstacles is HARD. Finishing thirteen miles will be HARD, but I can do it. I know I can.