Progress

I've been pretty hard on myself recently in terms of running (alright, I'm hard on myself over everything, but whatever).  I actually got so fed up with the endless monotony of getting up every Saturday for a long run that I decided to do something that I've never, ever done before:  I decided not to run a race that I signed up for.  Post-marathon, when I was struggling with enthusiasm after (what I considered) a truly lackluster performance in my inaugural 26.2, I signed up for the Germantown Half as a way to force myself to keep going.

Weeeelllll, here's a little something about Becky Heineke:  you can't force her to do anything.  You'd think I'd know this, seeing as how I happen to be Becky Heineke, but I thought that if anyone had the power to force me to do something, it'd be me.  And I was WRONG.  Even Becky Heineke can't make Becky Heineke do something she doesn't want to do, and Becky Heineke does not want to train for the damn Germantown Half.

(Although Becky Heineke is a little peeved that she already paid for it.  But she's trying to get over that.)

So instead of focusing on long runs, I started getting back into my pre-marathon routine of going to track workouts on Tuesday nights.  When I originally started going, I was overwhelmingly intimidated, what with many times being the absolute slowest person there, and seemingly not improving at all, ever, despite weeks of effort.  But what I love about the track workouts, and always have, is that they're about running.  These other group runs that I show up to during the week are as focused (if not more focused) on the social aspect afterward as the exercise part.  But at track, you just run.  Hard.  And at the end of it, there's very little standing around and talking because all you want to do is go home and lie on the couch.

Apparently, this shift from long runs to sprint work was the right choice because I've set three personal records for speed in the last two and a half weeks.  True, nothing that I'm about to share is anything to write home about, BUT, considering where I started, they definitely show progress.

I already mentioned my first PR, for my 4-mile time.

I also ran a 7:53 mile last week at track, the first time I've ever broken the 8-minute barrier running a mile.

And two nights ago, I ran a 3:30 800.  Granted, someone very generously paced me (I respond remarkably well to positive reinforcement from a few feet in front of me), but my other (solo) 800s that night were all in the vicinity of 3:42/3:43, which is the type of time I only ran once last year, and that was only because I was angry enough at three people that I could have punched them all in the face, and two of them had the audacity to show up to the track workout that night.  (I also respond well to generalized rage directed at people who annoy me.)

And the thing about each of these milestones is that the sense of achievement has been shadowed by a lingering sense that maybe I could do even better.  I don't mean that in an unhealthy I'll-never-be-satisfied way, but in an I'm-starting-to-sense-that-things-are-possible-that-I-didn't-think-were-possible-before way.

And if I can do that with running, I wonder what other areas of my life I can do that with...  I don't know if it's the impending onset of spring, or the fact that I just switched decades, or a general product boredom, but I've felt like "working on myself" lately.  And it's nice that in one area, at least, where I thought I needed improvement, I am, indeed, making progress.