Tonight at 8:30 PM, I ran a six mile tempo run on the treadmill and continued watching Elf. The time is sort of relevant.
When I got off, I attempted some parallel bar pull ups. The first two were really easy, so I asked Ryne to film one. I know. I’m such a bro. Well, he only the got the last second of the third attempt. I tried again and only made it halfway up. Dang. Ain’t that life? All I really wanted was to show you guys how strong I am now. 😉 Then I pouted for the next twenty minutes because I am an adult, and any longer than 20 minutes would have been ridiculous.
Now let’s talk about something I’m currently battling (aside from immature tantrums and things of that nature): I Should Have Done It Better Syndrome. Better known as ISHDIBS, because creating an acronym for it makes it real. Obviously.
Ryne and I were talking about Saturday’s race and how I thought I did. Originally, I truly was proud of myself. I like to call that the post-race high. We’ve all been there, right? Well, once that faded away I realized that I could and should have done better. I didn’t end the race totally burned out, so I had a little more energy I could have used up.
I’ve mentioned this before, but I really don’t know my limits because I have trouble pushing myself. I’ll find a comfort zone in a race. You know, a pace that isn’t embarrassingly easy for me and will earn me a semi-respectable time. Then I’ll stay there. I’m scared of pushing so hard that I totally fail or, like, puke all over myself. What? It could definitely happen.
I’m doing better because I’m actually training for once in my life, but I need to work on what I do on race day. It’s such a mental thing. Which means, by default, I’ll be terrible at it. Brain power. I need it.
I don’t really know why I just mentioned all of that, but I guess I’m hoping for suggestions. Tips on how to know when you’ve reached your “top” speed in a race without dying? Maybe some motivation? I’m not really sure. I think I’ve gotten to the point where I really do want to improve. I mean, I know I’m not a superfreak athlete or anything, but I’d like to achieve a few new PRs in 2014. Should be relatively easy, since I’ve set the bar pretty low. Help me out and I’ll send you some tacky cookies made by the most awesome mom-toddler duo around. That would be Maddux and me in case you were confused.
Oh, yeah, back to the significance of my 8:30 PM workout: it’s now 10:30 and I’m nowhere near being able to fall asleep. For this old lady, that’s practically torturous.