I was barely a half mile into the run and I was wanting to quit. My legs hurt, my lungs hurt and honestly I just wanted to be in bed. Actually, I waited a little later to run this weekend, and the sun was already beating down on me. I was wishing I had forced myself to get an earlier start. After running down the mile long hill, feeling fatigued already, possibly more mentally fatigued than physical, I tried not to think about the 10 more miles ahead of me. After running to the end of town, three miles into the run, I allowed myself to have a water break. At this point, I was three miles from home, and still trying to talk myself into finishing what I had started. It's amazing how I can debate with myself while running. "But if I go back now, it's only 3 more miles. Yes, but 5 miles short of your goal. And 5 more short of ice cream. Ice cream? That's right. Any run over 10 miles and I can have ice cream. Nice cold, creamy chocolate ice cream". I kept running.
At mile 6, another water break. The debate continued "If I cut across that road I could make it home sooner. Yes, but short of the goal; short of the ice cream. And I am over half way to the ice cream". I kept running.
At mile 9, I smiled as I could see where I would later stop and get ice cream. That's right, just two more miles and I'm home and sweet ice cream will be mine (once they open that is).
I can't say it was my best run. In fact, I struggled from the first step. By the end of the run, I had short burn. If any of you have experienced this then you know what I'm talking about. I walked in sort of limping, walking bow legged to try to ease the pain in my inner thighs. My husband looked at me and asked how my run was.. my reply "I get ice cream".