5:55 am – I’m awake as a lark, with the sun shining through
I was looking forward to getting out in the fresh air and stretching my legs,
with an easy 5K to start my day. I got dressed, headphones in and headed out
the door. It had rained a little bit over night, so the ground was a little
damp, but I wasn't too worried as the majority of my route is on pavement. So I
warm up with a brisk walk to the start point of my 5K route and started
running.
This is where is all went wrong, it started getting a
windier and rain was spitting down a little – my first thought was nice, when I
get really into the run, the rain will be welcoming and cooling and this wind
is fresher than any air conditioning unit. As the run progressed I started
getting wetter and colder, and felt like I was just dragging my body through
the empty streets of Oxford. I powered through, because I’m determined not
to give up easily, but it was tough. When I got back home, I felt disappointed with
my run and my immediate thoughts were I best go for another run this evening,
to make sure my running mojo is back, and to fall back in love with running
after our temporary fall out this morning.
Whilst pondering life in the shower, I was shocked and
impressed at myself. The old me would have probably given up running after than
run, and not be planning my next one. I’m
not sure if because during the last few weeks my attitude to facing challenges
has changed, or the fact that I have signed up for the half marathon and told
people about it, so I have to deliver. I’d like it to be the change in
attitude, but I fear the latter is my biggest push.
I’m going to put this run down to bad weather fueling a
bad attitude, producing a bad run. But a
bad run is still better than no run, and that for me is a victory within itself.
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