Feeling lumpish.

I'm in a bit of a slump. I had errands to run (no pun intended) yesterday and home repair- related responsibilities today and now I don't much feel like going out for my 8 miles. I'm sitting here trying to persuade myself to go and get changed and get outside, but the positive self-talk isn't very effective at the moment. I know I'll go eventually because not going really isn't one of the options.

I need to get back to that happy place from last week. I've been pretty down on myself for the past few days although there's really no reason for it. I don't know, maybe just feeling overwhelmed. Too much thinking about things that are (at least for the moment) unanswerable. I'd rather go take a nap. It's already after 5. I could shift my runs to tomorrow and Friday, but that would really throw off the whole schedule. I need to suck it up, find my shoes, and hit the road.

I am a runner. It is beautiful outside. I do not miss training days. I have a responsibility to myself. I am a runner.

Now what?

I started by writing about the weather and how I've run in heat, rain, and cold. I scrapped that and began by stating that as of today I've run roughly 230 miles since the first week of August. Again, I have nothing to follow that statement so I scrapped it too.

And now I'm sitting here wondering why my good running feeling, my high, my flow, has dissipated leaving me with a vague feeling of discontent and disappointment. Last week was amazing. I felt like I could conquer the world. I was strong. Today? Not so much. No llama here. Tonight I just feel tired and angry and disappointed and I don't know why. It's not the running. I did four miles. Felt good. Finished strong. It's confusion in my head and my heart. The old demons are back poking around and I don't feel like dealing with them.

Nothing more to say tonight. I'm tired and may just turn in early. Tomorrow is another chance to start fresh.

One more for the night.

Body part discussions aside, tonight was the hands down best run I've had since I've started training. As I ran, I was thinking that this is what happiness feels like. Weird, huh? This must be the "flow" that they talk about, the "runner's high." I ran fast. I covered my five miles in record time. I just felt so good. I am excited to run tomorrow and looking forward to tackling this week's 16-miler on Saturday. Yep.

Who knew?

I had no idea that my butt was the object of so much attention. On Friday I was told that my jeans (that I thought fit well) were giving me saggy-ass (or some similar affliction). Today a work buddy commented that I needed to get this race over soon since I had lost my butt. She said that I'd had a good butt and now it was gone (she prefaced all this by saying she didn't mean any weirdness and considering the source, no offense was taken). While in the midst of this conversation another coworker chimed in saying that she too had noticed that I was now butt-less but hadn't said anything. These are my friends (and relatives).

So the question is, why do people only comment when it's gone? When I gain weight back post-marathon, will people suddenly compliment my newly regained bottom? Is it somehow more appropriate to discuss a shrinking body part than a growing one?

It cracks me up to think that I am not the only butt-watcher out there. You know, doing the butt comparison thing. You check out other butts and then rank where you fit. Maybe that's just me...

Still here (and still boring) part 2.

I keep hoping this running stuff will get easier, but so far it's still "work" every time. Yep-- at some point in every run I struggle.

I struggle mightily when chubby girls with big bottoms pass me on the trail. (I realize that my comment is politically incorrect but I don't care. It's not fair that I've put in miles and miles and still get passed by women who appear to have as much physical stamina as a creampuff.)

I struggle when I can't catch (never mind pass) old guys with wrinkled knees who are walking.

I struggle to catch my breath, calm my brain, and lift my feet.

The biggest struggle is deciding to put on my sneakers and get out each training day. I tell myself I'm excited and really, part of me is. But then there's the other part, the doubting part, that wonders why I'm doing this to myself. It's hard. It's tiring. It's time consuming.

Yet, I am doing this. I have a choice; no one is making me run. I could make excuses. I could just stop. But something is keeping me on schedule. On some level, I must like doing this.

Perhaps I'm masochistic.

I'm still here.

My boring-ness (or would it be "boringosity"?) has reached epic proportions. My life is work, food and running (although not necessarily in that order; food is probably the most important).

Actually, running is a little bit like work. It definitely demands the time of a second job. Maybe I should pay myself to run? I read an article in a running magazine where the woman trained for a marathon and "paid" herself a dollar for all the miles she ran in training. She had in the vicinity of $700. My rough calculations suggest that by marathon time I will have run about 400 miles since the beginning of August. So $400. That's a fair amount of money. $400 could get two (and a half) pairs of Frye boots. It could cover 100 Starbucks nonfat chi lattes with a slice of lemon loaf. If could be Christmas gifts for the family. It could be a plane ticket to someplace mildly exotic. $400 is a lot of money in my world. Of course, if I paid myself by the hour, I could make more. Actually, I don't think I could afford my hourly charge. Wait-- that doesn't work out. Nevermind.

Well?

Still waiting.

No epiphany yet.

Thighs are seemingly displeased with me and have not felt the need to inform the power of the universe that I should now be invited to join a higher plane.

In retrospect, maybe my love letter sounds too much like an apology or a justification. Maybe I need to try harder. Nah. There must be some other way to improve my karmic account.

Oh, and I ran four miles today which brings the current weekly total to 14. Fourteen more on Saturday.