After putting it out there on the blog that I want to get back into running shape, I feel like I might actually have to (and more importantly WANT TO) actually start SLOWLY running again. Then, when Mother Nature handed me the forecast for Tuesday, what was I supposed to do??
I mean, really. It was like a sign that I HAD to run. It's that weather that makes my legs just ITCH to run. I WANTED to run. So, when the Hubs got home from work and we ate and put Bailey to sleep, I laced up the ol' Brooks, grabbed the much neglected Garmin, turned on some Eminem and hit the road.
I told the Hubs I was doing 2 slow, easy miles.
We all know what happens when I say that.
Hey! It was only one more than I said!! That's good for me! And, I kept a decent pace, even getting negative splits... errr... does it count as negative splits even on just a 3-mile run? Whatever. I did. The first mile was about 10:15, then 9:50, then 9:20something. SAY WHAAAAAT?!?!?!?
Yes, I was huffing and puffing more than a lifetime smoker climbing up the Empire State Building. But, I looooved it. And, I felt strong. I felt I could have kept going. I had a giant, goofy grin.
Maybe... just maybe, I can do this.