4:45AM. The first alarm of five that will hopefully rouse me from my sleep. I give him an F for Failure because he definitely was not effective at his job.
An hour later, I finally threw the covers off with a strong arm. The chilly morning air met my bare legs and I shivered. Saucony Scofield bounced up from her spot on the edge of my bed and ran to the door, looking at me expectantly. After throwing on my running tights and a long sleeve shirt, I dipped my banana in a tablespoon of peanut butter and quietly opened the door to the living room where Yo slept soundly on the couch.
"Meow, meow, meow," Scofield kept reminding me she was ready for food. I tossed in a handful of dry cat deliciousness and pulled my Saucony Kinvara's on (Yes, I did name my cat after my favorite racing flat).
Down the still-dark street I trotted. I pressed start on my Garmin and looked at my pace. Wow... that is a slow trot, Ash. Maybe you should just swim instead of doing a track workout. I was not feeling it.
Most of you know, I did the runner's walk off shame off the track two weeks ago. It was pretty humiliating. My pace group abandoned me with their quick turnover. My feet just couldn't stay up. Last week, I had to work for my boss, so I didn't get to do the track workout. I was worried I wouldn't be able to keep up with my pace group. Temptation haunted me. A little fat Buddha man sat on my shoulder.
"Just do your own easy run. Go maybe 4 miles and call it a day. You've been biking a lot lately," he urged me.
No, you little fatty face! I'm going to the track.
As I rounded the corner, I met up with some runners from the group. They were in the middle of their warm-up. It was decision time: Do I join them or do I continue on my own?
"Just do your own thing. You just started your warm-up, they are almost done with theirs. Give yourself some time," he was using logic now.
Okay, Fatty Face; you win.
I sauntered on alone. Hmmm it's actually kinda nice out. Maybe I should go home and get a t-shirt. Oh, and put on deodorant. I totally didn't do that this morning.
I made a right and took the long way home. This would give me more time to warm up anyway. The closer I got to my house, the more tired my legs felt.
"Remember that circuit you did with Perry yesterday? Oh, not to mention the 40-mile bike ride and the hour of swimming? Maybe you should just go home and work on the website."
Darn you, Fatty Face! That sounds so good! Must... resist... the... fat... man's... words.
I ran upstairs and changed shirts, rubbed some scented odor blocker on my underpits then turned and ran back out the door before the fat man could convince me to be a slacker.
When I arrived at the track, the crew was about the start their second set of 2k's followed by a 400. I jumped into the pace group Rusty told me to join and totally forgot that I was tired. It was a strong workout and I could not be happier I did it. Take that, Fatty Face.
Moral of the story: You may not always feel like doing your workout. Motivation may be lacking. Do it anyway. Get out there and at least start it. Once you finish, you will be so glad you stuck with it!
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