At the beginning of the year, I
Just the other day, I passed the 500 mile mark for the year, and even though I don't claim to be a math genius, my figuring says that's halfway. Since there are still a few more days left in the month, I'm halfway there SLIGHTLY ahead of schedule.
I'm not sure why exactly I decided to do this, except I know myself well enough that I know if I don't have something to strive for, I usually just don't bother, and since I'm not training for running races any more, this was a way to keep myself motivated and running regularly.
And that part has totally worked. I log - on average - 25 miles a week, every week.
Being the goal-oriented, kind of driven gal I am, I would expect this to make me incredibly happy.
Instead, I just feel kind of blah about it.
I'm happy I'm running. I'm happy I'm meeting my goal.
But I guess I expected to feel lighter, leaner, faster, stronger... better.
And I don't. At all.
If anything, I'm slower. And I'm certainly not lighter.
Every morning I wake up, mentally check my schedule for the day and decide if I will run that day. And if I am running, will it be 3 miles? 5 miles? 7 miles? Then I do it.
And it's fine. And the next day, I do it all over again. And it's still fine.
And I'm halfway!
So there's that.