Wednesday, October 13, 2010

I hate running.

I was up for two hours last night and not because of the baby.  I was up because I was worried (about what you ask?  Nathan's pooping.  Or lack thereof.  Seriously.) 

So, when Evan woke up this morning at 6:30, dang, I was tired!  But I realized the kid went to bed around 9, so 9 and a half hours without eating for him is amazing and I should not complain a bit. 

But then after that I laid back down, and started talking to myself in my head how I should not run this morning.  I had a lot of really good reasons.  I am really good at convincing myself of things.  I thought of how tired I was, how my feet have been sore, how I needed to eat something first and didn't feel like eating..and then when I got up Evan was wide awake, so I thought for sure I shouldn't go because he was awake and he could start crying at any minute. 

I knew I needed to go.  The more I tried to convince myself not to the more I knew I had.  I ran a mile in 10 minutes, 14 seconds on, I ran it in 10 minutes 4 seconds. 

It really hurt.  Bad.  Around seven minutes in, I seriously thought I was not going to be able to catch my breath. Then I was thinking how the people on biggest loser can run faster than me, so I kept going.  And I did it.  But I seriously hate running.  I just do it because it's a quick aerobic way to exercise. 

Once I cut off those 4 seconds, I am going for distance, not time for awhile.  I want to do two miles.  And then I will go back down for speed I think. 

I wish I got those endorphins other people got when they run.  I only get them when I stop.  Maybe I won't hate running anymore when it stops hurting so much....

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