In my day job, I am basically a salesman (no haters, please). It provides me a good living and allows me to provide food, shelter and cable tv for my family. But my job is basically to persuade people. I am pretty good at it.
Over the past week or so, I realized that I have become comfortable with my current workout routines. I tend to be going the same distances (with a few recent exceptions). So, I recently decided that I would challenge myself by committing to run a 10K race on January 23rd. My longest distance has been exactly 5K in 34:15. It was difficult, but did not kill me.
I went out last night for a quick run before I did the packet pick-up for Saturday's El Tour race. I didn't have much time, so I thought I would have fun with a short 2 mile run. After all, I've been blogging about running more over the past week and I've liked the excitement about my new challenge. I persuaded myself that I am going to love the new running gig. I told my wife that I may even do that half-marathon in late March. She said nothing and raised one eyebrow. Then, I went running.
But the running was kinda hard. It was my first run in about 10 days. I felt fat. I felt lumpy, slowly plodding along. Slow. People might chuckle if they saw me from inside their nice houses. This was not fun. It sucked. Slow.