Kick Your Azz

Periodically i will reread my last blog entry and get really angry. I’m supposed to. What’s why i wrote it. I am my own worst enemy so what better way to spur myself on than to insult myself in some way?
In the last week I ran 8.1 miles. The week before only 2.8. The week before that a big, fat 0. So, there is movement in these legs. There is a slow improvement. That psychological getting back on the horse so to speak.
I think running with the Rebeccas truly helped. The one that’s training for the marathon and the one who runs just for the hell of it. Not to split hairs, but running with Rebecca Two was more relaxing. I didn’t feel too much pressure to kick a fast pace so i was able to bang out 4.8 miles with her.

We started out the morning feeling like the same train had run us both down. Getting to bed at 1am at something to do with it, i’m sure. She was adamant about running and i was equally adamant of watching her go while i poured myself another cup of coffee. Buh-bye! But, as she started to get ready to run (groaning all the while) something inside me growled, “just fukcing get out there!” I think i surprised myself more than i did her when i said, “alright, let’s do this thing!”
Up to Look we talked all the way. Just when i was about to tell her to not be offended by my silence or stalker heavy breathing she asked me the same. Still we continued to blahblahblah. Around Look we passed an antique car show and i pointed out the theater where one day i hope Bec will perform. It was then that i had to giggle. I was running with one of my favorite musicians! Crazy! she kept saying it was a great run. I felt honored to be a part of it.
When we got out of the park i decided i had more in the tank and felt i could go another 2 miles. Two turned into 2.8 with a tiny sprint at the end. It was a lot of fun and i promise, i will never doubt myself that deeply ever again. I’m glad i kicked my own azz.