This morning's run began before the sun came up. It was sort of strange and felt like I was going for a run in the middle of the night. The sky was clear and the stars were amazing. Far more appealing was the idea of lying on the grass and staring at the stars for 20 minutes instead of going for this run, but I likely would have fallen back asleep and the last thing I needed was for the neighbors to leave for work and find me sleeping in my front yard...
Lots of random thoughts came to mind as I ran. First and foremost, I am now less than a week away from my first 5k in a very long time. I can't say that I'm nervous about it, but I do feel like I'm just a little bit crazy... like I'm attempting to travel back in time several years in order to accomplish something I have no business doing at this point in my life. I wonder sometimes if that's just the negative side of me that isn't sure I can do it or if that's the realist in me simply saying "what the hell are you trying to prove?" Maybe my body is really trying to tell me I shouldn't be pushing myself this hard. I have to remind myself frequently that most worthwhile things do not come easily. So, on I run...
Unfortunately, I'm sad that my husband won't be there for my first race... The real question is, did I pick this race because it was the one I was most interested in or did part of me know that he was busy that day and pick it because it meant a little less pressure not having him on the sidelines? I really don't believe the latter is true, but I certainly had the ability to pick another race once I found out he wasn't available that day. So, then the question becomes, did I stick with that date because I didn't want to use that as an excuse to put off my first 5k or did I secretly want to attempt this first one alone.
Let's contemplate this further... I think of my husband as a great athlete - sure, it may have been a few years since he played football, but he was great at what he did. I see myself as a person that used to be an average athlete, which seems far less impressive. He's never insinuated that I should be a better, faster or stronger, but I sometimes assume these things when he sees me running or attempting to play any sport, which is really quite silly. It's clearly pressure I put on myself for lord knows what reason. I'm just strange that way.
Turns out the worst mind games out there are the ones you play on yourself. Truth be told, it doesn't really matter that my husband won't be there... he supports what I do and I'm not exactly doing it for him in the first place. I need to look at this as my lone adventure... it's certainly one I need a lot of support for and absolutely can't do alone, but I have to remember to do it for me. So, I will race on Sunday, with my husband not there, and look forward to his phone call to ask how it all went... and I will be so excited to tell him how well I ran...
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