It was almost 7 months to the day that I last strapped on my Garmin, laced up my shoes and hit the pavement. My last run was the Santa Hustle half-marathon in Indianapolis. It was a great run, but I didn't train for it.
I slacked off and thought that just because I had run a half-marathon before that I would be able to do it again, but this time without training as much or as hard. Overall my finishing time was only 5 minutes slower, but the entire race was a whole heck of a lot less enjoyable. In my first half-marathon I only walked while I was getting a drink, but in this race I walked a significant amount more.

That race really messed me up. It was as if after that race I had zero interest whatsoever in doing anything that involved running. I avoided it at all cost.
So 7 months pass by and I'm finally getting the guts to try it again.
Last night my wife stayed late with the kids at her parents place and so I was living the bachelor lifestyle for a night. I slept decent and woke up and got some work done on my computer. I texted my wife and told her I was done with my work if she wanted to head this way with the kids. Her response was, "Why not go for a run?" I'll be honest, my initial response in my head was, "Hey, no!" but I decided to reply with "Good idea."
I was scared/nervous because I didn't know what to expect. I had mentally told myself I was doing 3 miles, but I didn't know what I would even feel like. I mean I hadn't ran in 7 months...so 3 miles was probably a bit over zealous anyway.
I hit up my favorite trail around here and just started running. I focused on staying slow and my breathing instead of negative splits and looking like I knew what I was doing. It was a great run until I started to feel I was getting a blister on a couple of my toes.
My father-in-law had given me a pair of shoes that he bought, but never really used. I usually wear a 10 1/2 and these were 10's...so I thought it couldn't hurt to try. When I hit the 2.5 mile mark I couldn't take it anymore. I decided I was going to stop.
It was then that my determination to finish what I had started kicked in. I stopped and took off my shoes and socks and carried them as I decided I was finishing the last .5 mile barefoot. The pavement wasn't hot yet and it was only .5 a mile....it felt good!
I finished the last of my run and sat on a nearby bench to soak it all in. It felt good to prove to myself that I could do it. That despite being out of the game for 7 straight months that I could get back in it and run 3 miles. It wasn't fast. It wasn't my best. But it was fun.
Fun is good!
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