bring it on

So, just let me brag about myself for a minute. (Since I'm pretty good at it.)

The last time I went on a real run was last August. I broke my foot. Then my eyes stopped working and I started slamming into walls and such if I so much as walked briskly. Poor poor me, I know.

Today, I ran seven miles. In a sub-9-minute mile pace. (Just barely. They were something like 8.9 minute miles, but still. It counts.) Not bad after a 9 month sabbatical. And I ran it on a treadmill (with a .4 incline, thank you very much). I hate treadmills. Almost as much as I hate rap music. (Which is a lot, in case there was any question.)

But I have this coworker named Chris. Back when my eyes stopped working, I got lots of pity from lots of people. Pretty much everyone except for him. He made fun of me. Which, in all honesty, is exactly what I needed. Feeling sorry for myself got me absolutely nowhere. And while it's nice to know that people care, having the rest of the world feel sorry for me also got me nowhere. But being made fun of made me laugh and feel like a normal person. And for that, I love Chris. (Don't tell him that. He's all finicky and weird about mushy stuff like that. He won't even admit that we're friends. We are "friendly". Whatever. We're friends whether he likes it or not.)

But I'm getting off topic here. Last week, I was telling him about how I am registered for a marathon in October and was worried that I wouldn't be able to train since I still have trouble keeping my eyes open when I move any faster than a slug. And again, I got no pity from him. (Surprise, surprise.) In fact, he may have thrown something at me and then told me I was an idiot. (Have I never heard of a treadmill? Really?) As much as I tried to tell him that I hate treadmills and lose my sanity after about 8 minutes, he refused to listen. (As much as I love Chris, listening is not one of his strong points.) Instead, he told me that if I really wanted to run a marathon in October, I had to just make it happen. My excuses are lame. I deserve a better life than I am giving myself. I can do anything I want, have any man I want, but I have to stop holding myself back. Blah, blah, blah. Kind of irritating at the time, but totally true.

So here I am, making it happen. I bought myself a nice long playlist of running music for my ipod (meaning early 90's country music), headed to the gym, set the speed to an 8:50 mile, and ran for seven miles. Monday is incline work, Tuesday will be a nice slow(ish) run, more hills on Wednesday, shorter runs Thursday and Friday, and 10 miles on Saturday. By October, I will be marathon ready.

So I hope Mom and Kate are ready to get their butts kicked in St George.