You can’t let your thoughts rule your outing. I faced one of the hottest runs of the year thus far and it took a lot of effort for me to quit screwing around and get out of the driveway to get started- all because I was sure it was going to be nothing but pure torture.
It turned out to be one of the best runs I’ve had this year. I felt strong and capable. I was able to maintain breath and posture and to avoid the cramps which this time only rumbled quiet threats from beneath my ribs. All of that worry for nothing. In fact, the negativity might have compromised what would have been a great time had I allowed it to continue.
We went for a run in the pouring rain. As we topped the most terrible hill, I called an audible and we ran the traditional loop, the tough version, to get home. We made excellent time. I was amazed that the second terrible hill, which happens along that route, seemed to have been defanged. I went right up, no loss of breath, still feeling strong when I topped the other side.
I would be more thrilled by the run, nearly the full length of which I felt like I was in charge of myself and capable, but since I’ve been home, my lower belly has been pissed. The pain is taking a lot of the fun out of my triumph. As we came through the last section, my clothes soaked and weighing at least ten extra pounds, my partner stomped through every puddle, splashing me for half a mile. The rain was cooling on a day that felt slightly chilly until we got out onto the road.