A Case of Low Expectations

You know the scenario... it is windy and cold. You can't get started on the run until pretty late in the afternoon due to other weekend commitments. You spend more time than is necessary picking out what to wear for the run (although the weather is tricky), and generally bitching and moaning about how bad it is all going to be. The only thing that gets you out is the shame and loserishness you will feel if you don't. You resolve to go slow.

You get to the trail and start running. Two minutes in, you realize it is not going to be as bad as you thought. Ten minutes in you realize you are having one of the best runs ever! Your form feels perfect, your feet pounding the ground feels like the most natural thing in the world. The wind is at your back (for now) and you are able to keep the pace you want easily. Your breathing settles in like a miracle and the horses that have chosen to graze near the path feel like a gift from the Great Mother, put there just for you to remind you that the core of all things truly beautiful is strength. *

On the way to the other weekend commitment we had, I was telling Chris how I hate running and I don't know why I keep doing it. He goes "well, what would happen if you stopped" and I said I didn't know. I just didn't think I would feel good, I would be depressed.

But during this run, I realized that this run is why I run. Because even though you have to suffer through some awful times and go when you don't want to, and run in the cold and the wind, when running is good, it is just that good, good enough to make everything else worth it.

So, you keep running, just hoping this one is going to be good.

*I feel I should note that all these fantastic things only applied to the first four miles of this run. The last mile did nothing but suck balls.