I do a speed run on Thursday mornings. It’s just a usual run to the rest of the group but for me it’s an endurance test. More often than not I wimp out and run with the company of my ipod or on my beloved treadmill.
I’ve known some of these runners for fifteen years; we’ve been through all the usual ups and downs of life together, through injuries and victories and running slumps. I’m in a slump right now. I can do the miles but I can’t do the speed.
The first few miles are wonderful. I keep pace, chat with the group and feel like my old self. But around mile 2 or 3(today it was 1.5) I begin gasping for air. One moment we are running stride in stride, our collective breath forming a fog in the cold air, and the next moment they are 50 feet ahead, then 1oo and then I’m alone.
I force myself to keep a decent pace. The temptation is to slink off and find a shortcut back to my car. But I push myself, calling on unused muscles, trying desperately to keep the group in sight. It’s frustrating and humiliating, but I know I’ll never keep up if I don’t push myself.
By the time I came to the last mile today everyone was out of sight. But the sun was rising, I got a second wind and I felt fast and strong for just a few minutes.
My fabulous and savvy friend wants to partner with me in my business and make it grow. I know we could create a fabulous, profitable venture together. But I can’t do it. I’m already running as fast as I can. It’s time for me to drop a few pounds and responsibilities and add a few hours of sleep.
I want to feel like myself again. I want to be myself again.