OK, so I really do love to run. Sometimes, though, it takes a bit of coaxing to talk myself into it. Sometimes, though, that coaxing is not quite enough. Today, unfortunately, was one of those ‘sometimes.’
My roommate, Jess, and running date for the day had suffered from a headache since she woke this morning; so I definitely understood her needing to go home to lie down. That left me for a solo workout right after work that I had still planned on all day at work.
I think it was around 4:30 the first time my stomach started grumbling, but I figured I could easily last until after even a few quick miles. By the time I left the office just after 5:00, though, I was quickly talking myself out of my run – one.
I hadn’t gotten a half mile into the drive home before I talked myself back into my run, even if I cut it a mile or two short. I really should run. It won’t take too long, and I’ll feel so much better that I did it afterward. Two.
About another half mile or so up the road, I had introduced another variable into the equation: Maybe if I go home, Jess will be feeling better and want to head to the gym for a quick workout to get out of the house. Three. Nah, I should let her rest and just go knock out a few miles around campus. She’ll appreciate the quiet time at home.
Four. And with it, the realization that I had just missed the turn that would take me back to campus to get my run in. Oh well, I guess I’m not running today after all. Five.
I could have easily turned around to get back to my intended destination but then remembered an errand I needed to run within the next week and a half. Sure, I had time to get it done, but what better time than now? Just go get the card quickly, then drive back to campus before it gets dark. Six.
While thumbing through cards at Hallmark, I hit seven and eight. Should I go back to campus? Nah, think I’m done for the night. Still have a load of laundry I never finished yesterday. Well, maybe I could go home and then just do a quick run around the neighborhood.
About half way home after jumping back in my car came nine: Hmm, it’s getting kind of dark. Don’t think I’d get too far before I’d want to head back in. Then, about a quarter mile from my place, I glanced down a side street as I passed it and saw a runner. OK, fine, I’ll run already! Ten.
When I did get home, Jess was working on her laptop in the living room and, being the sweetie pie that she is, apologized for backing out of our running duet. “Oh, no problem. I’m thinking about going out for a quick run right now.” By this time, though, I was starving and grabbed a box of cereal from which to munch.
“I’ve been debating with myself whether or not I should run, but right now all I know is that I’m hungry and am going to eat this while I decide.” It was worse than the scene from ‘A League of Their Own’ when Geena Davis and Tom Hanks were giving the next batter different signs for what to do simultaneously. Do I run or don’t I?
I walked over to and opened the front door. It’s not that cold. I would warm up quickly. But it’s getting dark, and I really don’t want to run through the neighborhood alone in the dark. Eleven. Just do it. Twelve. Well, I am doing an extra mile of speed work on Wednesday and getting in an extra 7 miles on Thursday this week. . . Thirteen. “What do you think, Jess?” “I don’t need to add my opinion to what you’ve already got going on.” Fair enough.
About an hour and thirteen opposing arguments with myself after leaving work for the day, I decided against a Monday night run. I should have changed in my office and driven straight to campus before I had a chance to change my mind the first time.
Am I beating myself up over it? No, not really. I could always squeeze in a quick run before my Tuesday night gym visit or go Friday right after work. The fact that I didn’t run tonight doesn’t mean that I love it any less. I think I just needed a night to finish my laundry, to paint this intriguing picture of insight into this runner’s mind for all of your eager eyes, and maybe just to sit on the couch for a while.
Still, I felt a little bad at the sight of my lonely gym bag, packed with running gear that never got to come out to play. There will always be speedwork on Wednesday. Four timed miles around the track. Ouch! I’m sure I’ll be happy for the Monday night off then. Or, would I? *Sigh.* Fourteen.