I should be asleep right now. Yes, it’s Friday night and it sounds lame, but tomorrow, I have to get up and run nine miles at 6:30am. I should be asleep.
I’m compelled to share with you that I am scared. Nine miles seems far. When I think about nine miles, I picture myself getting in a car and arriving somewhere 15 minutes later. I don’t really see myself running nine miles (Didn’t I read somewhere that it’s good to visualize a run?) and that petrifies me.
The farthest I have ever run is seven miles. Maybe I would have more confidence if I hadn’t missed the eight-mile run with the group. Maybe I would feel better if I wasn’t concerned about the heat and dehydration. Maybe I’m just worried that I can’t actually run that far.
Sometimes, I think that I’m not a “runner” and I’m not cut out to run 13 miles. I could just stop. I could just leave my group run and never come back and not show up for the half marathon. But, there’s something about training that makes me feel committed—obligated if you will. So, I’m going to run nine miles tomorrow… at 6:30 in the morning.