Today is a rest day. Rest days, funny enough, make me nervous. Not that I’m afraid that what I’ve gained will be lost in one day. But something more along the lines of not being able to do something you do habitually. I won’t compare learning to run to quitting smoking because that’s obnoxious. But I kind of want to run today and I’m not supposed to.
So I’m cleaning the oven and I bathed the dog and next I’ll find something scary on Netflix. True story: I love watching scary stuff before bed. I sleep so well after a good ghost story.
All the stuff I heard about running getting easier is apparently true. Last Wednesday we ran three minutes together. Listening to music at work before my run, I emailed my friend. “Do you know how long three minutes is? All of ‘Jackson’ by Johnny and June PLUS 15 seconds of ‘It Ain’t Me, Babe’!” I was scared to death about adding a minute to my time, but it turns out that first three-minute run was no big deal. Then I ran three minutes each day after that with a rest on Sunday. Monday was a five-minute run. And if you’ve never run for five straight minutes ON PURPOSE in your whole life, you might not be able to understand why it is so amazing that I do that now. I run. I’m slow. But I run.
I checked the training web site this morning to see if there were any spots open for the half-marathon training. Really. But I missed the boat this year. So I registered for an 8K in February. It still seems like a really good idea.
What I’m listening to: Hurray for the Riff Raff
The new Shovels & Rope album
As much Sturgill Simpson as I can
I am reading on Oyster:
The Year of Living Biblically
Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal