I just had a major “Oh, crap” moment. My half marathon is just under 12 weeks away. And guess how far into my 15-week training program I am? If you guessed 0, that would be correct. Don’t get me wrong, I am working out. In a moment of desperation, I went to the library to check out Zumba Exhilarate because mine is on loan to a friend in exchange for Brazil Butt Lift. But I still needed my Zumba, so now I have more variety. Also, I have been swimming and hitting the treadmill in the gym at work. As much as I HATE the treadmill, I use it because running makes me feel awesome. Not to mention, it’s sweltering outside.
Although I have lost 35 pounds, I’ve been stuck for longer than I like. I’d hoped to be about 10 pounds further along than that right now. I’m trying hard not to place so much emphasis on numbers, but it’s still a struggle for me. While that change in numbers brings me much needed gratification, I know that focusing on the scale alone can lead me down a very dark path. But I still need to move in the right direction, because stagnancy sucks. I once heard someone say that you can’t make progress if you stay in love with your comfort zone. I’ll admit, that’s been my problem. I still eat pretty well for the most part. And I still work out, but I have been sticking with what I already know I can do, instead of pushing beyond my perceived limits. Despite getting my behind onto the treadmill, I didn’t go any further than I normally would. Of course, walking/running on a treadmill instead of outside is about as exciting as watching paint dry, but I really need to take advantage of the resources available to me. So the treadmill is my new lunchtime companion during the workweek. And the great outdoors will be my weekend companion, however hot it may be outside.
I consulted the running guru at my job and was told that long runs are imperative to successfully completing a half marathon in two and a half hours. Wait, what? Who said I wanted or needed to finish in two and a half hours? My goal is just to finish, preferably before the streets are reopened to traffic. But long runs are important either way. So this weekend will be split between laps in the pool, and the soles of my sneakers caressing the pavement for 7 sweaty miles. If I’m still alive to share the story, I’ll tell you all about it on Monday. Maybe. You know how I can be.
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