So this is my third week. I ran Monday through Thursday the first week I started running. I ran Monday through Friday last week. And today makes it an even ten, which seems like a good time to update.
Just for the record, I realize that you don't care about my running progress. When I say it's a good time for an update, I mean it's a good time for me to write an update. I mean that I'm still checking in and telling you about it so that I don't stop.
Today was the hardest yet. I will probably be saying that a lot from here on out, because this doesn't seem to be getting easier, no matter how much I complain about it.
When I began, I had a final goal in mind, the distance I wanted to walk to and then run back from. I mapped out little daily goals in my head, and a basic time line that told me approximately when I'd reach each goal.
But then when I started running, I pushed my baby goals a little further each day. Point being, I've pretty much reached my spot. I thought it would take me at least five weeks to get to my end spot, but it looks like I'll be reaching it tomorrow.
I'm not sure where to go from here. The reason that was my ending point is because that's where there stops being sidewalk. I suppose I could start running earlier, but I hate when I'm running and then have to turn around and cover ground I already covered.
I'm sure I'll figure something out, and it's not even a concern, really. There's always somewhere to go.
My question now is whether or not I should try to stretch my distance.
Today was a hard one, boys and girls.
Throat burning, every breath tasting a bit like metal. Legs like cement, lifting them seems more impossible with each step. Even my heart seems to be objecting on the final stretch.
And that voice, always that voice, telling me I can't do it. This is crazy, there's no reason to even try this, nobody would know, just walk, nobody cares, nobody cares but you.
It's a good voice. It gets me in trouble quite a bit, but I like it all the same. That's my prove-something voice. It's gotten me into a few fights, it's caused me to drink way more than I should, and I think it might even be responsible for ending a relationship or two.
But it's also responsible for most of the stories I've written, my grade point average, and pretty much every success I've ever had.
Because it's always back there whispering, come on man, come on, this is too hard, let's not even try this, it doesn't matter. This doesn't matter to anyone but you.
Sometimes, little voice, the things that don't matter are the most important.