I woke up determined to get my 5k in, as noted in my last post (Because I Can…). I hadn’t run that distance since my last race back about four weeks ago in Guelph with some girlfriends.
Had my oats, eggs and two cups of coffee, feeling a bit wonky as we left the house. The family went to Karate and my plan was to run the 5.5k to Coronation Park to meet them in just over 45 minutes so we could hang at the Waterfront Festival. I embarked… and I hated every step.
I had planned on doing 5 and 1s, set my HIIT timing and my Endomondo Tracker and was off. I took Rebecca through downtown Oakville, along the river, passed the Library and continued on. And then, it happened… I started doubted myself.
As I have before, I passed walkers, runners and cyclists as Oakville is one of the most active and fit towns I have ever witnessed. You can’t go anywhere without seeing this. I have said this to others before, as etiquette dictates, you salute. You say good morning if you have the breath, or the unspoken nod of the head as you run by. This is something I have not yet become used to. Why? Well, I just don’t feel like I deserve the honour of being a runner or that I am part of the club yet. It’s a mental thing and this is what started my slippery slop.
Once I started doubted my belongingness (not a word, I know), I started doubting my ability – and once that started, I slowed down. I missed my intervals and at 2k (at a shitty pace, mind you), I stopped. I stopped and I sat and I wanted to punch the sky. I know this is hard, every time I do it. And this morning it was super hard because the sun was beating down on the left side of my body and I was done. I couldn’t. At least that’s what the piece of crap voice was saying in my head.
I sat for three full minutes. My timer was going and I was not. I sat in the beating sun. I gave myself every excuse not to go on. I was ready to text my hubs to tell him I was overheated and I couldn’t do it. So I did. And I told him I would walk the rest of the way.
Then I kicked my own ass. And started back.
I looked at my feet, and was proud. I looked at my legs, and was proud. I felt my breath in my chest and the sweat in my eyes, and was proud. I could feel the sun burning my shoulders, and I was proud. I thought that two years ago I would have kicked someone in the shins if they told me I would be doing this one day, and I was proud. So I found my breath again and reminded myself, I am a champion in the making. I wasn’t born fit. I wasn’t born in a family who embraced physical activity. I wasn’t born this way but was creating it. And I was proud.
As I approached the park, I was elated. I did it, when I thought I couldn’t and I felt amazing!
I met the family, rehydrated and we were at the park for the festival. Normally, I would have indulged in the fried food, sugary treats and sat and watched my family have fun. Instead, I chose two great selections from one of the Vegan Food Trucks (thanks Karma Chamealeon!) with a Burg and Quinoa Salad. I played frizbee with the kids and we walked around. It was a great Saturday and am happy with the end of my first week of my 5 week challenge!