5K 2011

Well, we did it!  I was having a dilemma the night before, thinking I shouldn't have signed up my 6 year old.  I was worried he would give up.  I really wanted him to have a positive experience.  Also, my mom self was struggling against my competitive self.  I really wanted to beat my time from last year and I didn't want to get impatient with him.  I decided the night before that being his mom was more important than beating my time.  And I felt good about it.

The first mile, he stayed about 5 steps ahead of me.  The second mile he started to fall behind and we slowed down a little.  I kept encouraging him and he never stopped running.  He also never said a word.  He was in the zone!  My sister was waiting at the 3rd mile.  She held his hand and ran with him all the way to the finish line.  I was so proud of him for finishing.  He even won first place in his division.

Of course, my older kids all finished before me.  My 8 year old placed first in her division.  (She does every year).  The rest of us each took 5th place in ours.  Even though I was running slower that second mile, I still beat my time from last year by 47 seconds.

Sometimes I Hate Running

 Today was one of those days when I hate running.  Especially on a treadmill.  I dreaded it before I even got out of bed, but I knew I would do it anyway.  I look forward to Zumba days.  I love dancing.  Running? Not so much. Some days it's easy. But on days like today while I'm on that treadmill I have to trick myself into running.  I talk to myself the whole time. Here's how the conversation goes on those days:

It's only the first song. It's always hard during the first song.  I'll feel good by the second song.

Feeling good.  I can do this. I'm 1/8 of the way through.  I only have to do what I've just done 7 more times.

Only 5 more songs to go.  I can run for 5 more songs.

At least run for another half mile, then maybe I'll walk.

I did another half mile, now go 3 more minutes.

I gotta get my mind off of this. I'll try not to look at the display for a while.

Oh good, I didn't look at the display for 2 tenths of a mile.

125 pounds!  125 pounds! 125 pounds!

5 more minutes.  5 more minutes, then I can quit.

People run marathons all the time. I can do another quarter mile.

2 more minutes. 15 seconds, 10 seconds, 5 seconds.  

Whew! That wasn't so bad. (now that I'm done)

And so it goes.

I REALLY wish I could Zumba every day because sometimes I hate running.