You see, it had started to rain... for the first time in a very long time. My friend, Stephanie, had given me a lightweight fleece pullover with a half-zip that would be ideal for a drizzly run... staying warm even when wet, easy to get off when too warm, all that jazz. I could not find this pullover ANYWHERE!!!! Oh, man. I tore the hall closet apart. Not there. I went through my car. Not there. I tornadoed through the laundry... dirty AND clean... wet AND dry. Not there. It was nowhere to be found.
So I decided to find a different shirt. A plain black, long-sleeved cotton t-shirt. Not too big, not too small. Not too heavy, not too light. Not going stay warm when wet like the fleece, but whatever... it'd do. Went through the same search drill. No black t-shirt.
All of this searching took at least thirty minutes... about the amount of time I was planning on running. Finally, no longer amused by my searching frenzy, my husband said, "Just put something on already and GO! What is the big deal? A half an hour after you finish running you aren't even going to remember what you wore. Get outta here!" For once I listened to this smart man the FIRST time he told me the best course of action. I grabbed a heavy cotton sweatshirt (the antithesis of what I wanted) and left.
I started off in the nice drizzle. It was such a nice change. It's finally feeling like fall here... although the whole summer was pretty fall-like actually! About 10 minutes into it the mind games started... the slowness, the "shortness", the raininess ... and all of the comparisons that one should not be making at this stage in one's life and level of fitness. I had forgotten all about "just happy to be here" and finding joy in being able to run AT ALL and what a glorious place I get to run and how good it feels to breathe hard and break a sweat... I had started tanking big time. I just wanted it to be over. The sooner, the better.
My music wasn't helping. When I run alone I listen to music, and it had been just sort of droning in the background, providing no inspiration, no motivation, hardly even "white noise" to remove the voices in my head... About one mile out, the temptation to turn around was huge. Hey, 2 miles is about what I was up to and isn't so measly and not much more measly than 3 miles...
Enter: The Funky Bunch.
There is nothing like a kick-ass song to kick your ass into gear! I smiled and sang and ran kind of fast for a little while. I started to feel like I used to feel when I ran... like it was easy. And when the song was over, I wasn't. The "Good Vibrations" from that one tune carried me through to completion. I was able to notice how beautiful it was out. I was running past one of my favorite places...
It may not look like much, but I LOVE this slough!
The run ended up being 3.8 miles... in 36 minutes! Go, me!