Call Me Cleopatra

After peaking on a runner’s high early last week, I was back to my old ways. I skipped my Wednesday run and my Thursday yoga class and, not surprisingly, felt like crap on my Sunday outing. My pace showed it – I averaged 6:09/km over 14K (about 8 ½ mile).
 

As I was wrapping up my run in a slow “oh screw it, my pace sucks anyways” lumber, the New Radicals song, “You Get What You Give” came up in my iPod rotation, adding shame to exhaustion. Lately, what I’ve been giving is minimal – and I’m getting minimal results in return. What’s more, I have been in a state of denial when it comes to the link between my behaviour and my results. I’ve been telling myself:

 

- Eating junk food doesn't matter. Fuel is fuel

- If I don't run now, I'm sure I'll find time later.

- Who needs sleep?

- Tempo runs are really just a good chance to relax.

- Putting on five pounds has not slowed me down.

- Another glass of wine won't hurt.

- I shouldn't bother pushing the limits -- as long as I'm out there, that's all that counts.

 

I’m not just the queen of denial; I’m the entire royal court. But my reign ends this week. I’m going to find myself a new winter half marathon to serve as my goal race and recommit to my running schedule. The queen is dead – long live the runner.

Comments

[Nitmos]

I tend to dip into slothfulness if I don't have a race on the schedule to anchor me. Like now. Go sign up. And sign me up for one also.

[Kelly]

Does this mean you won't be doing the kohl eyeliner thing next time I see you?

[Reluctant Runner]

Nitmos: I'm working on it...

Kelly: No kohl, but I will be arriving on a barge (our Ford Fusion). Let's make plans -- I'll e-mail!