Do you remember those quirky notepads for writing down your grocery list that said “The Shopping List: To leave at home when you go out”? I don’t know why this phrase still comes to my mind on occasion. I think because it describes my life in a nutshell – I make a plan and watch it get ripped to pieces, because of me, others, or those freak acts of God.
I make plans, but they rarely stick.
Tonight was supposed to be our second workout of 3 intervals of 16 minutes running / 3 minutes walking. But, like most things it was not. My hubby has a minor running injury. His right knee and hip are causing him to limp a little because of some pain. He decided not to run tonight. In fact, he said he couldn’t.
Normally, I’d take this as an opportunity to wimp out and take a little break of my own. Instead, I said I’d run. Always supportive, my hubby said we could go picnic in the park afterwards. Even though I’m not typically excited to run, I was sort of dreading this one. I haven’t run alone since we were doing intervals of less than 5 minutes. We’re up to 16 minutes these days. I’ve become quite dependent on my hubs to keep me at a faster pace, since without him children just learning to walk seem to pass me with ease. I am used to his company when we run. This was part of the reason why running on a treadmill a week ago did not work out; I missed running together and the emotional support that he provides.
I was so pessimistic going into this run. I kept repeating the phrase, “I’m not sure I can do this.” As my hubby walked me to the spot where we normally start he said, “At least do 1 interval and then come back and we’ll eat.” He wasn’t telling me “You can do it,” or “It’ll be a piece of cake.” Instead, he was assuming I wouldn’t be able to do it.
Well, this is infuriating to me. I hate being second-guessed. It enrages me when someone doesn’t think I can do something. So, freshly pissed off I started running. And ran, and ran, and ran until all 3 intervals were done. At the end, I was about 150 meters short of what we ran on Monday this week (unsurprisingly since my pacer was injured), but I was pretty proud of myself. I did it and it wasn’t a struggle.
When I met up with my hubs, who was sitting on a bench looking serenely at the water and listening to his mp3 player, I was really proud of myself. “So, you said I wouldn’t do it. Is there anything you want to say?” I asked him.
He shrugged, “Not really. I was just getting you riled up. I knew you’d do it if you were annoyed.”
This is even more infuriating, when someone knows you better than you know yourself.
The good news is that even without my running buddy, it seems that running is getting easier. Thankfully, the last 3 workouts have not all been flukes. I’m getting physically and mentally better at running.
When was the last time you surprised yourself about running?