“What counts in…

“What counts in battle is what you do once the pain sets in.” – John Short

Not sure how I haven’t heard this one before, but ladies and gents, I have found my new mantra.

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Morning Motivation

When it comes time to take on a new challenge, namely a physical one, I am a pro at immediately doubting my abilities. “But what if I can’t do it?” “There’s no way I can do THAT!” “What?? You want me to do what??” But by some stroke of hidden self-confidence, I always finish what I came out to do.

I not only ran the 6 miles I was terrified to run up here a couple of months ago, I’ve now run 13 miles up here and regularly head out for 6-8 mile jogs during the week. Earlier this summer I was pretty damn scared of altitude sickness on Kilimanjaro. I made it to the top (and only puked twice, but attribute that to the intestinal bacterial infection I picked up along the way). Those jump squats? Ok so I can’t yet do 6 sets of 15, but I’m up to 5 sets of 10.

Point is, I have a heckuva habit of saying I can’t do something. And then I do it. Always. Wouldn’t it be so much easier to start out by just telling myself that I CAN do it? Gosh, the anxiety and stomachaches I would save myself!

And THIS is what gets me outta the house every day.

13, Baby

I did it. I ran my longest distance up here in these crazy mountains. I had plotted out yet another route at the bottom of the hill, but paying $4.79 for each gallon of gas just to get me there scared me more than the prospect of exploding lungs and legs of jello. ┬áSo, after looking at my bank account ‘just to make sure I couldn’t swing it,’ (who am I kidding? There’s nothing in there) – I suited up and just did it.

I figured my route out to be approx 11.5 miles. I was adding 2 miles onto my 9.6 run from last week. Or so I thought. Skip ahead to the end of my run when I took out my GPS and saw that I had instead gone 13 miles. whoops. It wasn’t my intention to run race-distance before the big day, but I guess I’ll take it. I still have 3 weeks to taper down and rest my legs. I was pleased to see that a. My average pace was better than my long run down at sea level last year and b. I didn’t want to die (as much as last time) during certain hellish points in my route. My left knee was causing me pain, as was my right hip. I think I oughtta stretch those areas more thoroughly before I go out and do something like this again. This body ain’t used to these hills. I’m getting there, though, (very) slowly but surely. Anyhow, this post is mostly so that when I tell myself I can’t do it, I can look back at this and know that I did and I can.