There Is No Shame In Walking

This is something I have to remind myself every year as I begin training, and I've found once I've come to peace with the fact that there is no shame in walking my training goes to a whole new level.  

This morning I actually got myself out of bed and set off to run my scheduled 4 miles.  Ironically, there apparently had been a Harlem 5K this morning, so for about the first five blocks of my run I kept seeing people with bibs carefully pinned on their shirts, which pushed me to keep my feet moving.  I also tried a different route today, saying goodbye to the boring, flat sidewalk, and heading straight into Central Park facing the Great Hill feet first.  It was at this point that I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up my pace, but the rule I have made with myself over the years is that I'm not allowed to walk downhill, it's actually harder to walk downhill anyway.  So, I ran as far as I could up the hill and then took breathers, setting my sights on a lamppost or street sign, saying that once I reached that landmark the feet better start picking up the pace again.  Needless to say, my pace this morning was crap, but...I did it.  I ran down to and around the reservoir and when I came to where I had entered the reservoir's path I thought I still had another mile and a half to make up.  As I took one more look at my RunKeeper app on my phone and realized my math was way off and I really only had about .7 miles left I was reenergized and started running north.  As soon as I hit that 4 mile marker I walked the rest of the way home.  The one consolation was that even though I walked probably about a third of my run, I had it in me to go even further.  So yes, my pace was crap, but really...it's only my second day back running.  I feel a little bit more hopeful and just pray this can continue.  

I did buy new blue shoes on Thursday, so it's always fun running in new pretty shoes.  One technical difficulty is that the tongue of my sneaker keeps sliding to the outside of my foot, leaving my instep exposed to the tightened laces.  I'm sure I'll figure this out sooner or later.  The good thing is that they are comfortable, and did I mention that they're blue and pretty?  hehe.

One thing I'm constantly reminded of, especially as I get frustrated because I need to walk at times, is that sooner or later this whole thing becomes bigger than me...no matter how hard the training and no matter how hard I may be on myself, this whole running thing truly is bigger than me, or any of us for that matter.  I remember in high school when Dipi, Coach Bhaya, or Coach (we were only really allowed to call her Coach or Coach Bhaya, ha...Dipi was for us to call her behind closed doors), would run us ragged in field hockey practice during our preseason two-a-days.  She'd use the entire morning for conditioning, running us into the ground with her various drills she previously tested out on college level athletes.  While I was never very good at running, and truly dreaded most of what she threw at us, there was one in particular that really wore me out.  Dipi would simply tell us to run around the field for 20 minutes.  We could go in any direction we wanted, zig zag, whatever...just keep moving.  I'd be worn out after 5 minutes, but as morose as it may sound I just kept thinking about those that had gone before us...we said goodbye to someone almost once a year at that point, and I would think of Trey...if all of these people could go through what they had I could certainly run around the field for 20 minutes.  Seems silly to compare the two at all, right?  This method has always gotten me through though.  And now when I'm training for a half marathon, which is still mind boggling, I continue to think of those that have passed through the years, because unfortunately the goodbyes haven't stopped.  This year in particular we've said goodbye to some great ones, and when I'm running I know they'll lift me through those hard times.  So for now I may walk a bit, but when it's race time, those angels will all be right on my shoulders ready to bring me to the finish line.  It's like my own personal version of Angels In the Outfield...only let's say it's Angels In The Half Marathon...hmm...I'm sure I can come up with something better for that title, but you get the drift, ha.