So again, this is being written like two months after day two, but I think it's important for you guys to understand the initial part of my "training." I'm sorry, I've been doing this marathon thing for two months now, I still think it's hilarious that any serious person could remotely consider my running to be true training, but I digress. So I make it through my day of classes and whatever, and I was actually stoked to be in classes because it meant that I didn't have to move. Everything below my waist was in sheer agony and I was dreading my 5 o'clock run.
Once again, I gently slid my compression shorts on and applied enough Gold Bond powder to make Tony Montoya blush. I made the half mile walk to the gym and got ready to hit the treadmill. Oh, and by the way, for anyone who says I should be running outside, I live in Colorado and it pretty much just disregards all seasonal weather change here, so blizzards have become the spring-time norm. Anyways, I had the same mindset as the day before. I had no true goals per se, I only wanted to possibly beat my distance and/or pace from the day before. The first .43 miles were rough. Again, I know this because my eyes were glued to the mile counter as I impatiently waited for my self-induced torture to end. After .43 miles, my body loosened up a little bit and I could push myself through the run. I made it to four miles that day with the same system of walking .05 miles every mile, but I increased my speed every few minutes until I started to feel like my legs were going to give way and I would be launched by the treadmill like in those Youtube videos that I'm too lazy to find a link for. Then again, in hindsight, I don't think I was moving at a pace where I would be launched off the treadmill. I would probably be gently moved to the end of the machine.
Mentally, I was no better that day. I guess I was pretty happy that I made it onto the treadmill for two days in a row and I was proud that ignored the curl bars which were calling me from across the gym. Realistically, I knew deep down that it takes time to get back into shape, as I was a pro at taking it easy during off seasons in high school and cramming months of workouts into days before my seasons started. I just knew that I couldn't fake my way through marathon training. And all sarcasm aside, that is what truly draws me into doing this whole thing. When I start my race on that day in October, I can't do any cramming. I can't do anything except fall back on the training that I will have done in the months leading up to the race. It is the true test of my dedication to running. What the hell did I get myself into?
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