I may not like running, but I know when I’m behind in training. I did two 3 mile walks (with a zoo visit in between) on Sunday. The all walking 3-miles was actually faster than the I’ll run a little and see how I feel 3 miles. Tomorrow I aim for five (walking again)!
I read and hear a lot of runners giving Galloway (run/walk interval) method users advice about how to respect runners. Don’t jolt to a walk in front of a runner (or even a fast walker), don’t walk more than two abreast, don’t do this, or that.
There is only so much a walker can do to get out of everyones way without runners also paying attention and respecting them. Walkers respect runners, runners respect walkers, it takes both sides to work.
I’m a runner, although I am not a RUNNER. You’ve read a million times about how I don’t even like running.
Late last year, I read a guide for training for a marathon with a meat-free diet. At that moment, I was more obsessed with losing this damn 30 pounds of surgery fat that seems to be stubbornly clinging to my thighs and my neck. After re-reading those three intro e-books a million times, I slowly got obsessed with running a BQ. Not necessarily with running Boston itself, just qualifying. If I wanted to run Boston, I’d just do a charity run; it’s easier. (Of course, if I qualify and get in, I’d run the damn race).
This morning I was lucky to be part of an amazing runDisney event–the Tinker Bell Half Meetup. Fifty of us ran through Disneyland and California Adventure at 6 am. I’ll do a full recap later but just wanted to squeal for a moment.
I am not training very well or very hard for the Tinkerbell Half. Life has gotten in the way. I am getting a few miles in when I can and when it’s not ice raining. I know I should suck it up and run in the rain, as I live in Seattle, but it’s 36 degrees. But a couple days ago, I strapped on my headphones and blasted the running mix (I’ve been slowly rebuilding it since my iPhone 5 ate it) and went a running.
My goal for the end of this season, my off season, and next season is to keep running up the hills in my neighborhood. I am the master of avoiding hills, because in Ballard if you make the right turns you could always be running up hill both directions. Instead of winding around the hills, I am running straight through them, right on up the hills. There is only one that has me beat and I’m making it 3/4 of the or more up before I have to stop. I will make it to the top.
With that aside, I went running. It was cold. It was wet. It was windy. It was beautiful out still. And as I pounded the wet concrete, I found myself smiling. Yes, smiling.
Don’t tell anyone. I think I might hate running slightly less than I used to.
After my first 1/2 marathon last year in Vegas caused the blogosphere/twitterverse/commenttrollers to erupt into a sea of complaints about mismanagement, course crowding, walkers blocking runners and other nonsense, I fully expected every other race I’m ever in to be a breeze. While I actually had a great time in Vegas, I know many people did not. I was mulling over that as I dodged a group of six rather large fairies walking side by side as best they could on a sidewalk big enough to hold four pretty standard sized humans.
