As many of you know by now (if you read these ramblings on a regular basis) I often get the titles for these posts from insights/perspectives/etc. that I gain from the podcasts that I listen to while I lift. This one comes from the 300 pounds and running podcast...and is actually the title of a book by Joyce Meyer. And it also just so happens to be the perfect description of this mornings run...the first outside run since I was home over spring break like 3ish weeks ago. 7 glorious miles, filled with fear. Self-doubt. And all around panicking/freaking out every time I thought I saw someone I knew or was just terrified of not making it far enough.
You see, this run was my first run in my new bad ass/super comfy Under Armour running shoes and I was a little anxious as to how they would hold up running outside. More specifically, how my legs/ankles would hold up. Scratch that, pretty much how my whole body would hold up since it was super frigid out this morning in the lovely state of Iowa. But, in the end, I just could not bear to force myself to run on the treadmill. The fact that I might slip and fall on the ice and break something did not even phase me. Or the fact that any number of other things could happen while I was running around in the dark. All I card about was getting back to doing what I love most, pound the pavement!
Per usual, I tried my darnedest to ease into those first few miles, really focus on running tall, lengthen my strides when I felt tired/like I just could not run more freaking step, and not stress over going super fast up the hills. All of that came together extremely well and made for a highly enjoyable run. I felt like I could have just ran for hours on end...except for the fact that there is not nearly enough flat terrain in this town; and by the way screw those damn long ass hills that I had to add on at the end to get 7 miles. I SWORE TO GOD I WAS GOING TO BE BARFING UP THE LUCKY CHARMS/FROSTED FLAKES I HAD FOR BREAKFAST AT 2 A.M.
Now, back to this whole "do it afraid" business. I am terrified of not making the most of these next 5 months of training and then come race day not finishing at all or not finishing strong. Also, of hurting myself in one way or another. I was also slamming my hand on the panic button a lot this morning...like I wasn't even two miles in before I was freaking the f out. Not good, especially when you consider the fact that me hitting the panic button makes it hard as hell to breath normally and run with somewhat decent form. Great. On top of that, my fingers were cramping because of the cold (and yes I was wearing gloves/mittens/whatever) and I somehow had myself convinced I was going to get frostbite and lose all 10 of my fingers.
Needless to say, I was afraid of a lot this morning. I had (for not good reason whatsoever) placed a lot of emphasis/pressure on this run going perfectly in all aspects. Distance. Pace. Staying on my feet the entire time. Feeling effortless. We are on week 3 of training and shit needs to be going according to plan. THERE IS NO ROOM FOR ERROR OR FUN OR BEING CHICKEN ABOUT RUNNING X DISTANCE AT Y PACE. Ya I know, that's pretty lame/dumb of me to take that approach but like I'm out here chasing an impossible goal so I can't be too easy on myself.
And every time I felt like quitting. Like it was too cold and windy out to trudge on. Like I could not continue to run at such a fast clip for so long. I reminded myself that if I was going to run 13.1 miles in September...I was going to be doing it afraid. So, what better time than the present to get used to running afraid. Enjoy not knowing what was in store for the next several miles or whether things would go according to plan. You know what they say, you make plans and God laughs at those plans. And rightfully so. Because not all of my plans are super well thought out or even make sense.
As crazy as it sounds, the fear actually made me want to push harder and farther. Made me want to chase that feeling that maybe I wasn't quite ready to run that far in this weather. It drove me to say to myself over and over again...you can do this. You are a runner, and you need to just focus on running the miles that you're in. AND FOR PETES SAKE ENJOY IT AND QUIT WORRYING ABOUT BEING SEEN!!!! Like, who's gonna give a shit first of all. And second, if they saw something there's literally zero chance of you hearing it anyway.
So, when I attempt to run a bit farther tomorrow maybe 9 or 10 miles you can count on one thing: I WILL DO IT AFRAID AND WITH MAYBE NOT SO GREAT FORM AND PROBABLY WITH Y TONGUE HANGING OUT BECAUSE I AM CONVINCED I AM PART DOG.