April has come and gone… and I’m still doing this 2015 in 2015 running challenge.
This was the hardest month I’ve had so far. Easter, a trip out of town, and a couple of sick days for Emma made for some time constraints I hadn’t counted on, and I lost some days. Then, I’d overcompensate to make up for the mileage, and the extra stress on all of my old lady muscles and joints after those long runs would make for difficult, demoralizing, hobbling short runs later on.
“This isn’t all that fun anymore,” I told Wes about halfway through the month, which I’m sure made him feel loads better since his Ironman training had also reached a “not all that fun anymore” point. (Though he’s less of a whiner than I am. So, good for him!)
Despite all of this, I’m still running. I spent the whole month thinking that the goal was 660 miles, only to find out on the first day of May that the goal had actually been 663 miles. My mileage for April? 662 miles. Ugh. I’m still calling it an accomplishment, though, and will make up that extra mile this next month.
I know this is probably a very uninspiring post and all. If I read this post, I wouldn’t want to go out and run. Like, ever. But challenges aren’t always fun, and if I’m going to be honest about how amazing it feels to run 26.2 miles on a good day, then I’m also going to be honest about how much it sucks to run five miles on a bad day. I think I’m learning more on the bad days than I do on the good days, and the simple act of running, regardless of how I feel about it, is a discipline that I needed in my life. This doesn’t mean I don’t say some very nasty things to Wes when he chants “because you said you would!” when I leave the house for a long run (watch it, Ironman), but I know meeting this challenge has lasting value beyond mileage.
That said, the next goal is 834 miles by the end of May. Until then…