November 21, 2012 by Amy B
I think the most important ones are the ones you absolutely dread, yet get out and do anyway.
Last night was one of those runs.
After finding out I need new tires after less than 30K miles (for ones which are rated to at least 50K), as well as new front brakes, I was quite frustrated and in a foul mood. And unfortunately for me, there is a new Culver’s about 200 yards from the tire shop. And I hadn’t eaten a decent lunch. So at 3pm I found myself scarfing down a deluxe cheeseburger in disgust, at the tire situation and later, at myself.
Now, I’m not saying I’m beating myself up for eating the cheeseburger. My diet is far from perfect, and I don’t pretend that it is. I am a believer in moderation in all things, and when it comes to junk food, I’ve been pretty good. I don’t feel deprived in the slightest. In fact, if anything, my diet could still use a major overhaul.
But I was pissed. And I hadn’t had a cheeseburger for awhile.
And it was delicious.
And 514 calories. Eek.
So I knew I needed to run in the evening. And when I got home, I was ready to go. And then I ate a few doritos and felt awful.
I got dressed, because that’s half the battle, right?
When Scott got home I put on my shoes and he helped coax me out the door. I told him my stomach hurt. “You’ll be fine,” he said.
And he was right. I was.
I’ll admit for the first mile I wasn’t making much of an effort to keep up any particular pace. As I eased into the run, I started to feel better.
So it’s not a PR, but still a decent pace; if I can run a 9:48 avg mile 5K without going all out, I’m happy.
And I’m glad I got out and ran, even though, no, especially because I didn’t want to go.