Look who’s got some skin in the game now…my last run over 3.5 was well over a year ago and this past year made getting back to fighting shape something I just kept pushing off onto “future me”. Future me seemed like the just the woman to tackle what felt like an overwhelming task, whereas present me seemed better equipped to indulge in long, lazy days, rich foods and zero workouts apart from leisurely hikes with my dogs.
Present me got very comfortable and future me stuck her head around the door and whispered “You are far too comfortable. It’s time to get uncomfortable again. It’s time to set a goal challenging enough to make you sweat, and make it public enough that you have to see it through. While we’re at it, let’s do it for a cause that’s bigger than your foolish worries, put some money on it, and carve this motherfucker in stone.”
So here I am. Present me started the day comfortable and curled up with my dogs, and future me kicked me in my ass and registered for a half marathon in October. A slushy, slow ass 3.5 miles later, staring at my confirmation email I’m definitely uncomfortable. Shaking my head at myself, anxious, uncomfortable, and grateful to be pushed.