Tuesday, April 9, 2013

It's 18 days, 17 hours, and 48 minutes until I take my first step towards achieving my goal.

But I have to admit, I'm scared to death.  Each day I lace up my shoes and start what feels like a never ending chant, "you can do it, you can do it, piece of cake."  I step onto the treadmill or out the door and placing one foot gingerly in front of the other I start to shuffle, lifting my feet a little higher, my shuffle turns to a jog, and about 8 minutes later that odd looking, uneven paced jog bursts into a run. 

Greetings from Mississippi!
I love to run, I truly do, but the thought of running and the act of running terrifies me.  Why?  I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA!  So each day I check my schedule, sometimes 10 or 15 times, to see how far I have to run and then I spend the next couple of hours doing everything in my power not to talk myself out of it.  I have to train - there's no ifs, ands or buts about it.  I will never finish 13.1 miles if I don't train.  And goddamn it, I'm going to finish.  But what is it about me and my personality that allows this thing that I love to terrify me?  Why do I poison a natural high?  I may never know.  What I do know is, it won't stop me.
 Running log updates
(I can't update my Nike+ account from my iPad - work on that Apple!):
4.5, 10’39
3.0, 9’42
4.5, 10’14
7.0, 10’52
4.5, 9’58
3.0, 9’36
4.5, 10’05
8, 10’03
5.0, 10’03
3.0, 9’53
5.0, 9’59
6.2, 10’08
5.0, 9’55
3.0, (we’ll see)