Full disclosure time, as per the usual, this morning, I was doubting all the things (code for myself) and almost canceled my OTF class this morning as it was the one mile benchmark. 5 months after the last blog entry, here I am writing about the mile benchmark again - wow.
But Erin, you like endurance runs.
Yes, self, yes I do. But I am also a very competitive person and having taken the second month of quarantine pretty much off from working out other than a run from time to time, I am really only one month back into workouts and a mile benchmark (1 mile timed) 5 months to the day after the last one was daunting.
See, 5 months to the day ago I was still working out at least 5 days a week consistently, traveling, working and functioning like a normal human - if there is such thing as a normal human. Today? Well, I am not sure what this has been but normal is not the word. Back to the fear and dread of the 1 mile. I am competitive with myself, and only myself as I think other people are amazing at what they can accomplish even if they don't believe it, and I knew that 5 months ago I rocked a benchmark at a studio in Oregon in no small part because of a letter that was waiting for me with altered song lyrics from Coach Stephanie and Teresa letting me know I wasn't running without my peeps.
Back to today, I am intentionally trying not to push the speed to much in my tread blocks as not getting hurt is the goal which means I have to accept that, in order to stay healthy, I may sacrifice some speed and that is okay - it is GREAT. Today I was back with our OTF Murphy 6:30am crew, even showed up way early so Teresa and I could be next to each other on Tread 1 & 3 (socially distance tread spacing thank you very much), Khahn rocking tread 5 and Penny rowing us through it. Coach Hannah on the mic with her ornery demure, at .5 miles you are half way through you know you can probably add a little more if you feel like it smirk that makes us all smile and dig a little more. I was singing lyrics to no necessarily (not even close) the music that was playing in my head and had the mandatory in my life towel covering my total time. I stuck to my plan and increased at every hash mark on the 'track' (1/4 of the 1/4 mile) until I hit my stride then stuck it for .25 miles until an increase, then a .1 increase for each of the last hash marks. I did not die, I did not throw up (yes, the thought was there, it is a much mental as physical for me), I pushed my towel off at .2 to go and realized I wasn't going to hit my last time but at that point, there wasn't anything I could do about it and that had been my plan for myself.
Self, you don't need to prove anything to anyone other than yourself and you rock today. You can push as hard as you know you can and no matter what the clock says, you are back in the swing of things and doing work. Well done self.
That self talk was mixed with other salty language cussing myself out about getting it done and not quitting. Let's be honest, we all talk to ourselves and sometimes, it is not nice. In the end I added 7 seconds. Let me put that correctly, in the end, I only added 7 seconds to my mile benchmark after a very interesting 5 months and I am not in pain. You know what? I am pretty proud of myself at this moment. In fact, after the weight floor, I got back on the tread (we had to, this wasn't something I just did because I am crazy even though I am) and worked to get my 2+ miles today because I knew I could.
This year has not been the worst year ever for me, while it has been hard and sometimes has beat me into submission (also known as me curled up in the fetal position rocking slowly), it has not been the worst. The boys both are college graduates and have jobs lined up in their fields, Bill and I have jobs and stability, my family and friends are healthy. For me, that is not to say this has been a great year, but it has been not been the worst year, let's say it is 7 seconds more than it was when it started in January, and 7 seconds? Well that is damned good considering the insanity the last 5 months.
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