While you're reading this, I'm procrastinating. My house has never been cleaner, my projects never more up to date and nearly all my planned summer reading is complete. I'm contemplating starting work on next year's taxes as I avoid going for my latest run.
I should just put on the stupid shoes and go already, but I'm ashamed to admit I'm afraid of this particular phase of training. Intimidated. I'm scared I won't be able to finish and will turn into a puddle of goo on the trail. A puddle that needs to be scraped up.
After eight weeks of training, I'm moving into 'week five' of the prgogram I'm following for the 5K race I will run in October. So far, it's been relatively easy: I have no twinges in my knees anymore, and I have received quite a few compliments on my slightly altered figure. My sweetheart even stopped me in the upstairs hallway last week to say he thought my legs looked different. He couldn't quite put words to it, but thought I was leaner somehow. Stronger. He was well rewarded for the observation.
But this latest run scares me. It's three five-minute runs, with a mere two minutes of walking in between. Truthfully, it's not very much more activity than the 'week four' schedule. The additional running amounts to only two extra minutes. But still, I'm afraid.
What if I can't do all three of the runs? Worse, what if I can? Then I'll have to move on to next week, which is eight minutes of running at a time. The following week is a solid 20 minutes- all at once. eek.
Hey, does anyone need some vacuuming done today?