I was supposed to run for 35 minutes last night. Couldn’t do it. There is a small part of moi that felt panicky about this decision. When I stop, I really stop. Here’s how it went down. We got home, starved and restless. Steamed edamame with lime juice and salt. A book of short stories for that even shorter attention span. And there we stayed. Me, myself and moi – on the couch. Didn’t question it. Didn’t do anything about it either. Me tells myself that it’s the knees. They have been a little tattletale since Sunday. Moi is convinced I’m tired in other ways. We all turn our head, indifferent to the whisperings of You Should Run. I know it would make me feel better and yet, on the couch I stayed. At least for last night.
Tonight I am taking that menu from the night before and turning it out. Tonight we run. It’s a full plate: arms and back, followed by the run (dare I do outside and up that hill?), and finishing with yoga and PT. Kisa is in charge of the grill tonight. My cooks apron will stay on its hook, waiting for another day.
I tell myself I wasn’t in the mindset last night. I have to consider tonight the official start to training for Las Vegas. And so it begins. I know I made the promise of when I hit 18 I will register. I say fukc that. As soon as the flight is cheap enough I will sign us up. To hell with I think I can. I want to know I can. If I fail it’s only because someone didn’t try hard enough. I say to myself and moi – don’t let me go. And more importantly, don’t let me go it alone.