Last week I ran a total of two miles. That’s right. Two. My weekly goal of 15 miles is turning out to be a lot harder than I imagined. Of course, I have a lot of excuses. Last night I even wrote a long post about all of my excuses, you know, instead of running. Then my computer froze up and I had to shut it down and my post, which had taken me the time to run perhaps three miles, was gone.
Today was the first of February (if by some chance you failed to notice) and I decided, after writing my winey little post last night, that I have to be more committed to training if I’m ever going to run 10k’s, half marathons and yes, eventually full marathons and ultras. I just wish it were warmer outside and that I could hit the roads and trails more often. It’s no secret by now, I just can’t seem to completely overcome my dislike for the treadmill.
The thing is I really love to run. I love the action, I love how strong I feel during it and after it, I love the way my body looks from doing it, I love the pride and sense of accomplishment it gives me. I love sprinting and pulling ahead. I love running with others. I love trail running. I love my running shoes. I love logging into runner’s world and entering in my most recent run.
Like tonight. Over 5 and a half miles. That’s a record for me running on the treadmill. I figure it’s a new month and a new chance to reach those 15 mile a week goals.