My husband got home from work. Dinner had been made, we had lemon pepper pork chops, asparagus, mashed potatoes and salad. It was on the table. I informed my husband that I had to do a four mile run. I told him he was in charge of my children, and then I left. I told him I would be gone about an hour, because after I ran, I had to buy some gas.
I got to the park that I was running at. It was supposed to be a four mile tempo run. With the two middle miles being faster than the first and last. This meant that I would have to do the 2/3 mile loop and the 1/3 mile loop, and then 3 times around the 2/3 mile loop and then repeat the first. I was ready to get started.
I did the first mile, which seemed to be much further than 1 mile. Judging from the time the first "mile" took me (13:58) it was at least 1.2 miles. I then did the next two miles. I was starting to think that I was over exerting myself at about 1 1/3 miles into the 2 mile segment. My stomach started to really hurt. There was a big part of me that wanted to quit the run. I think it was pretty much all of me that wanted to quit the run, except for my heart.
My heart winning over the rest of my body, I continued on. I finished the two-mile segment. Knowing that my first mile was likely 1.2 miles, I did one more 2/3 mile loop and then the 1/4 mile loop. By the time I was done, when I checked my fitbit, I had gone over 4 miles. That was enough for me. My legs felt like they were going to fall off. It wasn't a really good feeling. It was good to know that I could will myself to finish my goal, but I hurt. It wasn't just a little...
I was supposed to run with my sister after I finished the four mile run. By the time, I bought gas and got home, I could barely walk. I let her know that I couldn't run another step, then went upstairs, put on my pajamas, and then ate dinner.
In New York, where I used to run, there was a trail in my hometown, that had each 1/4 mile marked. It made it really easy to train for races. I knew how far I had to run, so I would do out and backs to the distance I had to. I am hoping to discover a place like that around here.
I got to the park that I was running at. It was supposed to be a four mile tempo run. With the two middle miles being faster than the first and last. This meant that I would have to do the 2/3 mile loop and the 1/3 mile loop, and then 3 times around the 2/3 mile loop and then repeat the first. I was ready to get started.
I did the first mile, which seemed to be much further than 1 mile. Judging from the time the first "mile" took me (13:58) it was at least 1.2 miles. I then did the next two miles. I was starting to think that I was over exerting myself at about 1 1/3 miles into the 2 mile segment. My stomach started to really hurt. There was a big part of me that wanted to quit the run. I think it was pretty much all of me that wanted to quit the run, except for my heart.
My heart winning over the rest of my body, I continued on. I finished the two-mile segment. Knowing that my first mile was likely 1.2 miles, I did one more 2/3 mile loop and then the 1/4 mile loop. By the time I was done, when I checked my fitbit, I had gone over 4 miles. That was enough for me. My legs felt like they were going to fall off. It wasn't a really good feeling. It was good to know that I could will myself to finish my goal, but I hurt. It wasn't just a little...
I was supposed to run with my sister after I finished the four mile run. By the time, I bought gas and got home, I could barely walk. I let her know that I couldn't run another step, then went upstairs, put on my pajamas, and then ate dinner.
In New York, where I used to run, there was a trail in my hometown, that had each 1/4 mile marked. It made it really easy to train for races. I knew how far I had to run, so I would do out and backs to the distance I had to. I am hoping to discover a place like that around here.
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