On a dreary day last week, Allie caught me in one of those mid-day ready-to-escape-the-office moods in which I will agree to just about any and every activity thrown at me. I was probably day-dreaming of sunny skies and soft Spring air when she slyly conned me into half marathon training.
Wait, what? Yea. That’s what I’m thinking too.
I’m sitting here today, staring at the 9 weeks of bright green reminders that now flood my calendar. Half marathon training. I’ve run my fair share of 5Ks. Even a 10K that I vowed to return to someday. But even in the post-race glow of a too-slow 5K with my shiny new medal flaunted around my neck, I’ve never thought “dude, I wish I could run that at least 3 more times right now.”
So why would I do this to myself? Well, I imagine a time will come when I’m asking myself that very question — so I’m going to just leave this right here:
[feature_headline type=”left” level=”h2″ looks_like=”h3″]Bigger, Better Medals[/feature_headline]
Let’s be honest, the only reason I run any race is to acquire much-deserved hardware. You’d better believe I’ve crossed many a finish line at which I drooled over the fancy semi-giant medals reserved for half marathoners. I want one.
[feature_headline type=”left” level=”h2″ looks_like=”h3″]Long Term Fitness Goals[/feature_headline]
My fitness strategy has been all over the place for the past few months. A huge fitness-focused goal like running a half marathon requires long-term planning, strategy and dedication. Allie and I set our sights on running my first official half marathon for roughly 9 weeks out. And we picked the biggest, baddest race in the city for the occasion — our beloved Hospital Hill — which, as you can imagine, has wicked hills. To survive, there’s no skimping on the training.
[feature_headline type=”left” level=”h2″ looks_like=”h3″]Awesome Running Buddy[/feature_headline]
In the past, I’ve been a lone wolf in the running game. Mostly because my long legs, longer stride and slow pace have made running with others awkward. Totally my fault! But, in our recent Westport St. Patrick’s Day 4-miler, Allie and I found an awesome pace together and completely rocked the first 1.25 miles of the race. At which point, I felt all the feelings of someone that hadn’t worked out for over a month (not my fault!) and quickly joined the walkers at the back of the pack. That first mile or so, though, was miraculous. And when you find a running buddy that great, you are pretty much required to take advantage of it.
[feature_headline type=”left” level=”h2″ looks_like=”h3″]Big Hills, Better Butts[/feature_headline]
Since day 1, my running mantra has been this: big hills, better butts. The phrase provides the most perfect running rhythm. And, in those moments in which you hate yourself the most (gigantic fucking hills), it will seriously pull you through. Who doesn’t want a better butt? Would you like a better butt? Why yes — yes, I think I would. So, in the true spirit of my mantra, I must do this.
[line]
Are there other motivations? Of course. Are these the most high-ranking? Absolutely. With these 4 things in mind, my partner in insanity by my side and our amazing community of blog friends holding us accountable (because you’d better believe we’re going to share all the gruesome details) — we’re running a half marathon.
Shit.
This post originally appeared on Prettyography.
[share title=”Share this Post” facebook=”true” twitter=”true” google_plus=”true” linkedin=”true” pinterest=”true” reddit=”true” email=”true”]
Leave a Reply