Two days out - 3.15 miles

Today's run felt long. Not terribly difficult, which is a good thing. This means that I'm in better running shape than I was last year at this time (though generally worse off in general shape than I was last year...). But it means that I get bored easily, and somehow "bored" translates into "let's walk for a bit," which is COMPLETELY silly, because if I'm bored, wouldn't it make more sense for my brain to tell my feet to run FASTER so that it would be over with sooner?

I knew ahead of time that this route today was 3.15 miles (sometimes I run for a comfortable or convenient distance and only look up the miles later on), which might have made the run feel particularly long and trudging from the start. That's not to say that there weren't good moments on my run.

It was a beautiful evening - I set out just as the sun passed below the horizon, but the edge of the world was lit up in red and gold that blended upward into that perfect blue of twilight. I ran around a large pond that I didn't know existed, and enjoyed the warm lights from the surrounding houses as they glowed in the midst of the dark evening, matching the color of the golden horizon, with bare winter trees standing in silhouette against the inky blue of the sky.

And I ran past homes and through neighborhoods that I'd never been through before, counting the handful of houses that were already lit with Christmas lights. I listened to a Being podcast full of beautiful poetry and wise thoughts about spirituality and the earth. I turned off my iPod near the end of my run and put it away in my pocket, enjoying the rhythm of my feet against a quiet evening.

All in all, it was a perfectly pleasant run that simply felt longer than I wanted it too, despite feeling generally strong. I get mad at myself that I don't have better willpower. I stopped and walked a few times tonight, none of those times for any great distance, and really not because my breathing was labored or my legs hurt or anything. My brain just sort of "gives up" from time to time, and despite my best efforts to tell myself "keep running," somehow I find that my pace has slowed to a walk, and I have to recharge myself to get going again.

I think that I was worried tonight as I ran. Worried that I'm not going to be able to succeed on Thursday (even though I haven't even defined for myself yet what "success" should mean). Worried that I'm going to get bored or not enjoy myself. Worried that everyone that I've recruited to run on our St. Timothy "team" is going to love the experience while I end up feeling only mediocre about it.

Now the truth is that I'm going to be excited to run on Thursday. It's the adrenaline of a race. It's the rush of proving to Matt that this is something important to me. It is the excitement of being part of a crowd, and the sense of accomplishment when it is all over. The buzz of the morning will help me feel motivated to do the race, and will help me to do it well. Adrenaline is great like that - I will run better on race day than I have run in any of my training, simply because it is race day. And when it's over, I'll think to myself that I need to sign up for another race, and I'll even have the crazy thought that since I've accomplished the 5k, I should try for something longer.

And so, in short, I will love it.

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