Okay, I don't want to alarm anyone, but I believe I've been the target of an alien invasion. Or abduction. Or weird mind-meld thingy.
Hopefully something without probes, at any rate.
What I'm aiming at, is something is going on in my brain that is wholly unfamiliar, and that something involves running.
(Don't worry, I still think it sucks*, but check this out...)
MYSTERIOUS HAPPENING #1:
This week, I had every excuse to miss a day of running. I run on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays in the mornings and this week, my darling daughter started 4th Grade on a Monday.
Normally, I would have shrugged and happily skipped my Monday workout because after all, it's my kid! I HAVE to escort my kid to the bus stop on the first day of school, right? It would be un'Murrican not to, right? NORMAL me, HUMAN me would consider this workout interference to be some unavoidable "Act of God", unfixable and as such, totally okay.
But not this week. When I realized I'd have to skip Monday, I was actually annoyed. Of course I'd be there for the kiddo, wanted to be, but I was irritated that my schedule was being messed with. So, I thought about it, shifted my Monday/Wednesday to Tuesday/Thursday and then confirmed with the husband that he'd be able to cover my runs on different days this week.
The fact that I shifted days is something that, I'll admit, I've done at least once before, that's not the weird part. The weird part is that this time it involved coordinating and uprooting another person's schedule, just so I could get my run in, and that's something I've never, ever done before.
MYSTERIOUS HAPPENING #2:
Last night, I checked the forecast for this morning's run, and it said it was going to rain all day long. But, forecasts are often wrong, and it *did* only say 30% chance of rain at 6AM, so I figured I'd wait and see what it actually looked like in the morning and figure out what to do then.
Fast-forward to this morning. I woke up, got dressed for my run, opened the door and you guessed it...RAIN! Not a lot, but more than a sprinkle. Enough to get your hair wet running out to the car. Enough for NORMAL me, HUMAN me to say "Guess that kills my workout!" and crawl back into bed.
But not this time. Instead, I went to the kitchen and got a sandwich bag to protect my iPod from the rain and headed out the door, just like that, like nothing was weird about choosing to go for a run in the middle of a rainstorm!
MYSTERIOUS HAPPENING #3:
Because I'm way out of shape, I regularly repeat weeks of my C25K program, to build my strength and to get me used to longer interval times. I try to hit the requirements of each week the first time around, but if it's too tough for me, I do what I can and build up from there at every workout.
As such there have been a few times (not many) but a few times where I've intentionally sandbagged myself -- only done 5 sets when I knew I could do 6, just so my next workout would be easier. It's not a regular thing, and it hasn't impeded my progress, but I've done it for sure, especially if I'm afraid of moving on to the next week.
This week I'm on my second round of Week 9, which involves running intervals of "Walk 2, Run 7" and "Walk 2, Run 8". I thought it would be tougher, but surprisingly, I'm holding my own with it so far -- and if I REALLY push it, I could totally finish it this week on Saturday. The problem is, Week 10 has scared the pants off me since I started the program -- intervals of "Walk 1, Run 10" transitioning cruelly on Day 3 to intervals of "Walk 1, Run 20". Really, MacNeill? No ramp up to the 20, just do 10 and then BAM!, into 20?
What I'm getting at, is that if there were ever a time for sandbagging, this week would pretty much be it -- anything to delay the advancement into the dreaded Week 10! So, this morning, when I was running in the rain, out on the open road, and I hit the killer series of shallow-but-l-o-o-o-ong hills in the last mile-and-a-half of my route, NORMAL me, HUMAN me would've used the hills for what they were: excellent, totally defensible opportunities to sandbag.
But here's the thing: this time, I didn't do it.
I actually *refused* to sandbag. Told myself "No!". Told myself I could make it up the hills and keep going.
Even if I had to go slow.
Even if it meant that I'd have to advance to Week 10 next Monday.
I made it up the effin' hills.
So, that's my story. If I *have*, in fact, been Body Snatched, consider this my warning to you, potential Pod People targets: beware the invasion, because they're coming for you NEXT!!!!
Photo Credit: www.arachnoid.com
*Yes, it sucks. For about an hour, three times a week.