As I sit on the floor stretching, sweat still glistening on my body, I am proud to announce that I have just run the second furthest distance ever in my life. I pulled off 10 miles YEARS ago, before children or the number 3 started my age. But today, I have run 7.2 miles. This is longer than the 6mile distance that has kept me from even entertaining the idea of entering an Olympic distance triathlon. It is only .8 miles shy of the partial marathon I have entered with my family in October.
And you know what? It wasn't that bad.
I have finally hit a point where the cardiovascular part of running isn't the limiting factor. I felt the same at mile 1 as I did at mile 7, and that is something I never really knew was possible. Sure, my feet and legs felt a little different, but that's never been the part I HATED about running. It was more the chest-heaving, side-cramping, air-sucking part.
The funny thing? In this wacked-out crazy fit neighborhood of mine, running 7 miles is like bragging that I managed to shower and put my underwear on correctly. Between the triathletes, Ironwomen and marathon runners, I am just bringing up the rear. But how great is that? If I was surrounded by TV-dinner eating, couch potatoes, I would hurt my shoulder patting myself on the back for running 3 miles. But this gang keeps me pushing. Keeps me inspired.
So here's to all my fit friends and family! I'll see you all in the old folks home in our 90's!
1 comment:
We are really going to kill it at the shuffle board contest at the home when we are 90, you realize that right?
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