After falling off the horse in March, I’ve been slowly trying to get back on it. It hasn’t been easy. My motivation just hasn’t been there lately. I’ve been doing some biking and lifting, but very little running (I am INCREDIBLY far behind on my goal for 1k miles this year). I’m hoping I’m about to turn a corner, though. You see, the other day I witnessed a bunch of people who had just finished a race. They were proudly displaying their medals and talking with each other about their race, how fast they want, about that crazy lady in costume, etc. It reminded me of why I started running: for that sense of accomplishing something great. Starting with a 5k and working up to a marathon (twice!), I really felt proud each time I crossed the finish line.
Now, after NYC I was pretty much dead. I think because it was the first time I really set a goal and failed to achieve it by a wide margin. I had trained for a specific goal, I started out on a path to achieve it, and I completely fell apart a full nine miles before the finish line. That experience left me crushed. I phoned in my next race, and fully skipped the Go! St. Louis half marathon last weekend, opting for some fun instead.
But this morning I woke up, put on my shoes and ran. Sure, it was only three miles, but great things have begun with a shorter run than that. Tomorrow, I’ll try and do it again. And the next day. I’m hoping that when Sunday evening rolls around, I’ll have completed between 9 and 15 miles. I’ll consider that an excellent start on my journey back.