After posting about skipping workouts yesterday, I actually went for a run. It’s amazing what you accomplish when you take the pressure off of yourself. I won’t say I’m always a pessimist, but it does feel pretty good to take on the day with a positive outlook. Maddux ended up pushing his nap back much later than normal, and my mom let him take it at her house. That meant I could run right after work, which almost never happens.
I ran six miles before I called it a day. Can I just say how much more motivation I have in the afternoon than in the evenings? It’s like any initiative I have freaking flies out of the window after at 5 pm.
The funny thing about the run, though, was that I totally blew it and still felt awesome. I ran the worst positive splits of my life, and yet I’m just excited I got to run. Let’s just say I was a little too enthusiastic during the first mile and it killed me in subsequent ones.
First mile? 7:49. Final Mile? 9:57. Like a champ. Proof that I’m better off just sticking with a plan. I get weird when I go in blindly, y’all. I can’t be trusted on the road.
Now in all seriousness, I should probably start trying to build up at least a tiny bit of a base before I try to go run three races in a weekend. I am going to die. But it’s all good because: I just like to run. Running’s my favorite.
Question: What time does your brain shut off? After five, don’t even ask me to spell my name.