I'm fully dressed to go for a run. I have my favorite workout pants on with a top that doesnt make me feel completely dreadful or fat. My fitbit is strapped tight and my hat is hiding my red afro from last night. So why am I still sitting on my bed watching hulu? 

I'll tell you why. I am afraid of the 8 miles, that I wont be able to do it. I keep creating excuses. "It's too hot outside. (at 80 degrees I could be right)" "I havent had enough water (which is true I probably should drink some more before I go for a jog)" "Maybe a run would be a bit better if I went at night when it was cool (I know the longer I put it off the more likely it wont happen)''

So here I sit. Typing in this blog hoping it would give me the strength to move forward walk out that door and start pounding the pavement. I know why I'm doing this, not only to lose weight to be happier with myself but to accomplish something I have always dreamed of doing. Running a marathon.

All my young life I was the fit thick kid. Still weighing in at 160 pounds (Gosh how much I wish I could see that number again). I was 5'9" and all of my class mates were complaining about hitting 100. (I guess the water in that small town in Indiana kept everyone else thin but me. Although they made fun of me for being big ... not fat mind you just big. I was an atheltic masterpiece. Captain at most of the sports I played in just my freshman year. I could sprint quicker than any of the little girls and they hated it. I didn't make many friends that way but it made me happy knowing I was good at something. 

So here I go, out the door. I'll let you know how it finished because I will finish.



What an experience!

1st mile was rough. I was instructed to run at a 11:30 to 12:30 pace which is slow for me. I'm usually trying to run at at 10:00 pace but this is training so I'm going to do what I'm told.

2nd mile was the worst. I didnt think I could make it. I saw 15 minutes on the clock and I still wasnt a mile and a half in. I wanted to walk. My knees hurt and back started to kill me.

Mile 3 took the longest. I had to slow down to a 13:00 pace and I felt ashamed that I couldnt finish even a 5k without thinking I should give up.

The 4th mile I seemed to hit the second wind most people talk about. My form seemed to be on point. The pain started to go away and I kept thinking positive. "I think I can I think I can"

The 5th through 7th mile was a blur. I just kept moving and didn't let my legs stop. Before I knew it I had one more 12:30 mile to go.

And boy was that last mile hard. I kept up my pace even though I didnt want to. Before I knew it I saw the 8.0 and started to walk.

My legs locked up, I could hardly make it up the stairs to my room but the bath felt so good. My legs were in heaven in the heat.

I'm now laying in bed with calf wraps on and a heating pad. Today was the farthest I have ran. Tomorrow I'm so thankful for a day off and boy will I take it.

I thought I can and I did. I feel like I need a train t-shirt now for my next run!