I don't think I've mentioned it before, but I hate running.

I've moved!!

NEW BLOG ADDRESS HERE:  runaroundsara.blogspot.com

Today, I was planning on going on a 12-mile bike ride along the Assabet River Rail Trail. I haven't been on it yet, but it looks to be downhill one way and uphill the other way. Fantastic. If it's challenging enough then I can do it regularly and not have to bike on roads with cars, which is preferable, seeing as I'd rather not get hit by some idiot who is texting and driving.

Unfortunately, it was supposed to rain tonight and when I left work, it was spitting and cold and miserable out. My biking friend and I decided not to go because we didn't want to get caught in a downpour. So we postponed. That's not the bad part. The bad part was that if I wasn't biking, I was running. On the treadmill. So I had a date with my treadmill tonight. It wasn't the worst date I've been on, but it was pretty damn close. At one point, I muttered "I hate my life right now". Wouldn't you?

I planned to do 3.1 miles in honor of an upcoming 5K (in 3 days!), but as I started, I knew it wasn't going to happen. I bargained with myself that if I did at least 1 mile, I’d feel good about myself. Then I fought with myself, saying, "No, you said you were going to do a 5K tonight, and you’re going to do it". Then I rationalized that "Two miles is pretty good, right?" And again, I yelled at myself, "No! You did 2 miles the other day, you're going to do 3.1 miles, like we discussed earlier. It's what you get for being a pansy and not biking in the rain. Do it." And so I listened and started another running interval.

At about 2 miles, I decided that I needed to man up and finish the 3.1 miles. It was only 1 mile more and for God’s sake, it’s not that hard. "Oh yeah?" I said to myself, "Not that hard? Then why do you hate running so much?"

"Because it’s too hard and I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this." It became a chant of sorts.

That's when I realized that chanting, "I hate this" while running wasn't a good way to keep my pace. So I tried a new tactic. I challenged myself to concentrate on distance running and not timed running. Before I knew it, I was at 3.1 miles. And done. It took me 54:55. With a pace of 17:43/mile. A personal best. Fistpump. 


Then, I realized that I had been running at 5 mph for all my intervals. The fastest I’ve ever done on the treadmill. And I hadn't even noticed it. Fistpump.

I’m still not looking forward to the running portion of the triathlon or the training for running, but at least I'm seeing progress.

Also. It didn't rain after all.