"...the only time I should see you is when you are passing me...." Jeff said with a very serious smirk.
It was 800m repeat day.
Sunday, I was so discouraged after our long run. So many thoughts of doubt and discouragement replayed over and over in my head. The song just wouldn't end. I questioned my abilities for running this upcoming marathon.
It started out just a little crack. But Sunday all my thoughts on this marathon broke into a million pieces.
Jeff left me at the track as he dropped off his phone back in the locker room. I went back and forth. I knew what my training had me doing.
1 mile w/u
8X800m @ 3.35
1 mile recovery.
I didn't want to do it.
I didn't want to fail.
I didn't want to hurt.
I didn't want to work so hard.
What if I couldn't run them?
What if I I didn't run them?
What if I just do half of them?
What if I just run them fast but not fast enough?
What it....A hundred more.
"I hate this, I hate that I can't breath, I hate that it hurts, I hate speed work ...." Desperately trying to catch my breath and cry to Jeff.
He gave me NO sympathy.
Jeff left me with 2 repeats left. I hit my numbers, I hit 6 repeats...
"I can do this..."
"Can I do this?"
"2 More...if you can do 6 you can do 8.."
I was blown away every time I looked at my little purple Timex.
HOW WAS I DOING THIS?
I wanted to cry, I knew it was God. He loved me enough to heal my 50 mile running week. He loved me enough to strengthen me, empower me..
I came unto my last 400 meters. My lips were dry, my lungs were burning. I tried to breath and I had no strength to even gasp for air. I was so thirst. My legs felt like lead weights.
I thought I would just run this last one easy. I didn't have to hit my time.
AND there he was..JEFF. He came back. He stood against the rail. He raised his finger "1". He came back to hold me accountable. To check on me.
I couldn't call it in.
He was counting on me. He knew I could do it. I had to quit being a baby and Run IT.
My last repeat; 3:30.
I tried not to cry. I wanted to scream "BAM! I did it!" BUT I couldn't even breath. I decided breathing was the first thing I needed to do.
The ENDORPHINS were raging. I took off my socks, my shoes and headed to the heavy bag. Bare foot and stoked I twisted my hips, pivoted my left leg, raised my right leg and WHACK! I planted the top of my foot perfectly across the bag.
The vinyl felt so cold and refreshing.
I came back into stance and went to repeat the roundhouse.
ONLY this time the sweat from my bare feet slipped against the cold cement floor and I came up 3 feet off the ground and all 103 lbs came down on my right butt cheek.
I was back up, quickly! My knees back in position as I swung my hips and slapped the bag again.
I am sure I gave some people a few good laughs. I was cracking up inside. I was feeling like Rocky hitting the bag but looking more like Dumb and Dumber.
The super cool thing about running last Fridays Pot o Gold ( One of the only cool things for me) was I got to meet the race director of Hennipen100 that I am running in October!
LIKE WHAT ARE THE ODDS?? THOSE ARE MY ODDS BABY!
"Michelle" was inside the Masonic Temple manning a shoe table for the shoe brand 360'.
Lacey happened to see her flyers on the table advertising HENNIPEN in October.
Lacey introduced herself and LO and BEHOLD..she was our LADY! She was so excited to meet us she trusted me to guard her table as she went to car to bring Lacey and I goodies!
In Closing...Hours later, I am still so humbled that I was able to NOT just nail 1 repeat..BUT I hit all 8 of them.
I wanted to quit, I wanted to cry, I wanted to breath, I wanted to cheat..
But I didn't.
I believed. I worked hard, I prayed harder. I sweat, I never gave up even when ever fiber in me wanted to.
Believe in yourself. Never quit. Whatever you are battling, whatever you are fighting, whatever you desire, don't quit. Dig in, don't listen to the voices of defeat...You are what you believe.
The easy route is easy...and comes with little satisfaction. AIM HIGH. WORK HARD, BELEIVE.