As I've been making my way back from my hamstring injury in November, I've realized something about myself: I am, on the one hand, full of joy because I am running. On the other hand . . . I am full of fear . . . because I am running.
This is real.
I've been contemplating signing up for a 5K now that I'm able to run 5 miles comfortably. But, I haven't pulled the trigger. I just keep contemplating it.
And I keep talking myself out of signing up.
Why? Because I'm afraid of re-injury, sure. But why else? Because I'm -- and this is so vain I don't even like to admit it -- well, I'm afraid my race time will be too slow.
Now, before you jump all over me and say that slow is relative and my slow is someone else's fast and all that . . . let me stop you and say, I know all that. I do. And I get it.
However, it does not change the feeling that I have about my times. I don't really care what my times are in relation to anyone else's times. I care what they are in relation to me. And now I'm feeling like my speed is gone. Like I'm at that point where I'm not getting any faster and, in fact, will see only slower times ahead. Like I'm the Pokey Runner.
This is totally a case of post-running injury disorder.
See, I spent 9 weeks not running At. All. And when I got back to it I was running only a half mile at a time. I can totally understand why I was feeling unsure about my running back then. Even when I'd gotten up to a full mile, I was still feeling pain.
Now, though, I'm not. I'm good to go. Good to run. Good to race.
So, why not go for it, already?!?
It's the fear. I know. And I know I've got to get over it.
Today, I actually made a little progress. I ran 4+ miles and then tacked on 5 hill repeats (for about another mile). This was the first time I've run anything close to speedwork since before the marathon. It was a big step, for sure.
We'll see if it helps shake the fear.
I need that powerful weapon back!
I'll be working on it.
Have a great weekend, everyone!