In a perfect world, I would have run 14-16 miles today, but instead I did six.
One lesson running never fails to teach me is that I cannot control everything. I do not control everything. As a Type A partial robot, this is sometimes hard to admit. I like things to go according to plan. Control the controllable. Beep boop.
I’m in the process of moving, and Portland is in the middle of a heat wave. The combination of the two is nearly doing me in. It’s too hot to function and none of my gear is where I want it to be, and it’s all I can do to keep my head above water. On top of all this, I’m 11 weeks out from the Chicago marathon, and the race won’t push itself back just because I’ve been busy.
Up until this point, training has been going well. I ran 15 miles two weeks ago and have otherwise stuck to my cross training plans of yoga and hiking and swimming. Great! But marathon training is humbling as hell, and life will always intervene to remind you who’s boss.
I would love to have the mental, physical, or schedule-able capacity to do a proper long run this weekend, but instead today I got in six. And that’s a lot more than zero! Far too often, we fall into the trap of thinking that if we can’t do everything, then why bother doing anything? If I can’t stick to my meal plan perfectly, might as well just binge on pizza and McDonald’s… If I didn’t get that promotion, might as well give up any hopes of ever improving my career… If I can’t personally impeach the president, might as well stop trying to effect change on any level…
Ridiculous. Get over yourself and do what you can with what you have. A pity party doesn’t solve anything, and running six miles keeps me closer to my goal than not even trying.
Life is always going to get in the way, regardless of how well we think we’ve planned. All we can do is give our best, and then try again a little harder tomorrow.
Racing the Hare 