I'm not sure what it was: the two days of rest I forced myself to take, the yoga I did this morning, the grilled cheese and tomato sandwich I had for breakfast, or the wonderful lunch I had with one of my favourite galpals, Kasia. Perhaps a combination of some or all of those things. Whatever it was, I want to bottle it. I'd make a fortune.
All day long I kept telling myself that today was going to be a run day, trying to make sure I was in the right frame of mine at the end of the day. Despite looking forward to my workout, by mid-afternoon, I started to feel a bit pooped. I needn't have doubted myself; by the time I walked through my front door, I was revving to go again. After popping my dinner in the oven, I threw on my workout gear and away I went.
7 intervals of run 1 minute/walk 2 minutes. My walking speed was faster; my running speed was faster; my energy level was higher. I felt better than I had ever felt before while running. After the seventh interval, I was sure I could have done another one or two but decided to not push myself too far. After 30 minutes, I hopped off the treadmill and I was smiling. WTF?! SMILING! I was sweaty and exhausted but I was still smiling, knowing deep down inside that I had overcome a huge mental, physical and emotional hurdle.
I was running. I ran. I'm a runner.
Oh, and the best song to run to? Europe's Final Countdown. Yeah, baby.