Ok so there has been some serious mojo losing going on over here. After the 10km and then the abysmal run afterwards I have a confession to make. I haven't been running since :(
Doomy Delores has taken up residence in my head. She has been heckling me for still being overweight (see! I didn't use the F.A.T word) cos everyone knows if you take up running the weight just *falls* off you............and it HASN'T. I have convinced myself that I am not a runner, everyone is laughing at me, I can't run cos I'm slow bla la la
It would appear, looking at my group of running buddies posts on FB that its not just me. Maybe its a post 10k thing, a bit like post wedding, post baby, post anything massive! An anti climax?
Ironically a lot of us are doing another 10k in 3 weeks time but we seem to have forgotten that fact!
Anyway this evening I decided (with the help of some positivity from my running friends) I decided to go for a run. Not 10k, not 5k, just a loop from my house and back and see how it goes. I decided to lower my distance and work on my speed cos I am a SLOW runner. I need to speed up for some PB's, for weight loss, for ME.
The first km I was a lot speedier than usual, but I was gasping like an upturned turtle and grunting like a warthog. I knew I was, despite having noise cancelling earphones in. Some poor woman jumped out of her skin as I snorted up behind her at a bus stop! I then decided that I would just do 1km and turn round and go back. Yes, 2km, that'll do.
There was, however, a huge arson attack close to us last night, and the rubbernecker in me got the better of me- I decided to keep running so I could have a nose at the arson scene (a kids adventure playground- mindless idiots) I was still trying to keep my speed up and it hurt! I was trying not to check my garmin every 3 seconds and just enjoy but I was pleased to see that I was a lot faster than average. I then thought I might as well keep going as I could do a loop back home, and it didn't matter if I walked some.
Then I got to a hill. A downhill. And I decided to run down it. Not jog down it, not plod down it, but actually run. Like a kid does. Running for the sake of running. Some of my best running moments have been when Ive felt like I was a child running for the joy of it, like we all used to. So I trotted down the hill at a speedy pace. I realised that I was scared of falling over. I broke my foot 5 years ago and had extensive surgery to pin it back together. It still hurts often and Ive realised that I favour it and it adds to my lack of speed, especially on uneven ground.
I then came to the homeward journey that I knew involved quite a steep hilly bit. I thought, oh well, I'll run up it but a new character came into my head. Competitive Caz! Me! Competitive against myself. I snuck a look at my Garmin and realised I was still going pretty speedily compared to usual and decided that I would run as much as I could up the hill. I puffed, I snorted, I gasped, I groaned. I know this will hurt tomorrow but Im looking forward to it. Ive got comfortable being the slow one, plodding round at my own pace. But I want to speed up! I want to sweat, to puff, to grunt, to ache.
Competitive Caz is here! I am going to push myself harder as I have grabbed that mojo and I don't ever want to let it go.......
By the way- I did 4km in 34.19 mins
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