Those of you who have known me for the past year or two know that I've
been running off and on (unfortunately off a great deal in recent
months) since the summer of 2006. In 2007, I even slogged
through a couple of 5K's, which I blogged about here and here.
Then I got de-motivated--it's entirely a mental thing. This year,
I didn't even run the races I ran last year because I wouldn't get my
ass off the couch to go outside or even go down the hall to the
treadmill.
Then, of course, I felt guilty for being a suckbutt.
Since mid-April, I've been run-walking and slowly increasing the amount
of time spent running. Barring thunderstorms or family
catastrophes, I'm going to run our town's annual Fourth of July 5K on
Friday morning.
I'm really, really nervous about it. It's stupid how nervous I
am--I already have butterflies. I'm fairly certain I can run the
entire distance, but I'll be unbelievably slow at it. If I break
30 minutes, I'll be as shocked as anyone. Unless I'm the
only woman in my age group, it's not like I'll be winning any
prizes. So what am I worried about?
If I survive this thing without being overly humiliated, I suppose I'll post a little race report here sometime on Friday.



