Last night, I faced the winds (27km/h) and rain to get 10 miles in before Sunday. I decided I wasn’t going to push myself; all I wanted to do was log the miles.
But the last two miles were awesome and I couldn’t hold back. The wind was now behind me, and it drove me home. For the first time in a long time, running was effortless. In fact, I had to tell myself to slow down and was grateful for the two traffic lights which forced me to stop.
Much later that night, sometime after midnight, I was wired. Runners’ high had set in and I was itching to go again. I thought about the weekend in Hamilton and wondered if I should run all 18 miles.
Without a doubt, I am ready for 13 miles and, given some of the tough conditions I’ve done those runs in, I can probably run 15. But after running last night, I really think that I can run the whole 18 miles without beating myself up. (Mind you, my time would likely be slow and that would beat me emotionally.)
Now I’m torn. Do I run 15 miles or push for 18? I can’t decide the day of as I need to work out getting home from nowhere rather than meeting the boys at the finish line. What do I do?
Being indecisive like this is not typically my style. It is, though, a “women’s perogative to change her mind.” Perhaps, if the running shoe fits….