I started this running adventure waking up every morning with some times excruciating pain in my left heel. I learned that though it hurt I could run with relatively little to no pain, so I continued. My runs were a struggle at first. The day after would cause more discomfort and frustration. My mind brought me back to a time when running was freeing and pleasurable. An easy five mile cruise through the streets, past the mansions, along the beach transitioning off the pavement and onto the sand.
Sunny day and fresh air. The pounds melted away. It made dealing with the mental agony of my separation almost tolerable, and for that I am forever grateful. Time didn't matter, much like Forest Gump I just felt like running, so I did. A little longer every week, no goal, no mission, I just ran. Then the bomb dropped from an unlikely source and from someone just wanting to provide support and encouragement for what I have been doing. "you should enter the road race."
I though about doing just that, I could compare how I had been doing against other runners I would pass long my various routes. Young, virile and heck I haven't been in a competitive situation for sometime. Imagine racing against the best the region has to offer, the Cinderella story of the kid from nowhere winning his first race.
My mind shifted from pleasure to work, I had better get working to see how fast I do or could or need to be to challenger. The fun of it all plummeted. It now became a matter of work and no longer just running.
Was it the fear of facing a challenge in a sport I didn't
2.25 to 8.04
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