So here’s the thing about this lovely C25k program. I keep hearing stories about people quitting in Week 4 or 5 and I’m like, “WHY? I’m liking this, I feel GREAT.”
Yeah. I found out why this weekend.
On Friday, after my lovely little “go team!” post, I ran Week 5/Day 2 which consists of two 8 minute runs with a 5 minute walk into between. I’d been prepared for these and as such I decided to repeat the last days of Week 4 and Day 1 of Week 5 so that I might feel ready. And so Friday, I was SO ready. I was all, “Yeah. Bring it.”
Y’ALL. It got BROUGHTEN. That sh*t was not as fun as I wanted it to be. I mean, it’s only 8 minutes, but seriously, it was a bit of a beating around 6 minutes and 45 seconds. My body was all, “DUDE, I wanna STOP,” and I was all “EFF YOU, WE’RE DOING THIS!”
So I did it. And I was tired, but not broken. And I was excited because I knew I’d be prepared for Day 3. I would kick Day 3 in the butt. I would do unspeakable things to Day 3. I would OWN Day 3.
Until I looked at Day 3.
20 minutes, uninterrupted.
As in 20 minutes, no walking.
20 minutes of straight running.
SERIOUSLY? TWENTY MINUTES?!? I HATE YOU COUCH TO 5K!!!
But before I fell to my knees and started screaming, “NOOOOOOOO!!!!!” while shaking my fist at the sky, I stopped. Yes, this would possibly suck. But I’d spent 5 weeks not dying. Longer than that, actually. Was I REALLY going to let some stupid program make me lose that momentum? Was I going to be beaten by a 20 minute run? Did I spend all that time huffing and jiggling down a asphalt track to let a workout that I hadn’t even attempted best me?
So I spent Saturday doing crafty things and completely ignoring the fact that I had nearly a half an hour of running to do the next day. I so was not going to let this beat me. I could do this. And if I died, I have excellent life insurance.
Sunday morning started as usual; bright streaming sunlight and a puppy that has to pee pacing our bedroom and sighing. As I took Maggie out for her morning constitution, I noticed that it wasn’t too hot. It was supposed to (and did) get up to a high of 95, so I probably should go running right then. And before I talked myself out of it, I put on my clothes, strapped on my running shoes, glaring at my snoring husband and then walked out the door.
As I was stretching I remembered that I meant to put P!nk’s “Trouble” on my running playlist. It used to be my “getting ready to go out” song that I would play as I applied mascara and decided between the blue or green boob-shirt, so I figured it would be a fun motivating song. Plus, the woman is kind of awesome. Does her thing, takes no crap AND looks amazing in a glitter body-suit while spinning in silks at a major awards show. My kind of chick. While downloading, I realized that P!nk’s Greatest Hits (So Far) was a pretty bad-ass album, so I downloaded the rest and added a few more of her songs to the running list. P!nk and I would get through this 20 minute run, together.
My girl and I started and it was a typical run. Tough, but not hard, the first few minutes and easier as it went on. I wasn’t hearing any prompts, but I realized that I kind of liked that; I could focus on my body and the music rather than try to calculate how much further I had to go. I keep my playlist on shuffle, but I kept flipping through so I could get to songs like “Stupid Girl” and “There You Go”. P!nk was keeping me going and I was appreciative. I kept wanting to check my time but I didn’t, just so I could be surprised when my little runner lady popped up and said, “You have one more minute left. Keep going! You’re almost there!”
Except she didn’t. Not even once. Finally I slowed to a walk and checked my time, just to make sure that I hadn’t stopped the timer somehow.
I hadn’t. Apparently, I hadn’t STARTED it.
When I first started my run, I had paused it shortly after beginning so I could adjust my arm strap. And never re-started it. Not only did I not get any encouragement, I had no idea how long I’d run.
After going through my playlist, I figured out that based on the duration of the songs that I heard (the ones I could remember), I’d run for about 27 minutes. Which was GREAT. Except, I didn’t have my perky runner lady denoting the time. I was so prepared to be proud of myself when I neared the end of my run, but I felt like I robbed myself of that. It was like running a race and winning, but only finding out later, after you’d showered and changed.
I know, it’s silly and I’ve gotten over it (a little) but I wanted the fanfare in my head, dammit! Instead of being something that I DID, it was just something that happened. And that kinda blew…
At least I know I can do it. So yay for me. I kicked Day 3′s in the butt. You hear that, Week 6?!? I’m comin’ for ya….
So how about you guys, how’s your program going?