In that last few (more like several) weeks, as I’ve been planning for my new adventure, running has taken a backseat.
Instead, I’ve been packing, making trips to Goodwill, meeting friends for drinks, eating my weight in chocolate and wondering how many jars of peanut butter I should stow in my checked luggage to Barcelona.
It’s a good time. But I’ve been feeling a little on edge.
Excited and anxious and loving this time in my life, but also … edgy. That’s the only way I can describe it.
And I realized today it’s because I MISS RUNNING.
I’ve managed to fit in a few 5-mile jogs here and there, but it’s been a long time since I did a tempo run or a hill workout. Long runs? Forget about them. (Oh, yeah. And remember that upcoming little race, the Portland Marathon? Now that I’m leaving for Spain on Sept. 26th, it’s not happening. That’s another reason that I completely backed off my training, but I neglected to mention that here. Oopsie.)
For a couple weeks, it felt glorious to take the pressure off of myself. I’d started to begrudge my running schedule, and I welcomed lazy, indulgent days. (I was also dealing with an IT issue, but I pretty much used that as an excuse to go way overboard in the resting department.)
But, now? I’m ready to get my base back. I miss breathing hard, sweating hard and feeling like a badass. (Yes, a hill workout makes me feel like a badass. I don’t care how silly that sounds.)
I miss eating well because it fuels me (versus eating too much and feeling sluggish).
I miss looking at my Garmin and being pleasantly surprised by the progress.
I miss jamming to my favorite songs and head-nodding to other runners.
I miss the pavement!
Tomorrow’s my first completely unplanned day in a long time, and I’m excited to get reacquainted with my running shoes.