On Wednesday, I went to the dreaded treadmill to run 4 miles. As I said in my first post, my thoughts are/were "This is easy. I got this!" mainly because I run about 40 minutes on a treadmill every time I step onto one.
I got on and struggled through 2 miles... and had to stop. My body was failing me. I was all freaked out about why. I have a great VO2 max so I rarely struggle with the cardio aspect. One of my joints was hurting- not strained, not challenged, but pain...
What is this?!?!? I run 4 miles for breakfast. If you called me up right now and said hey can you run 4 miles with me, I'd say "sure" without reluctance... Four miles is a piece of cake. Four miles is a stroll in the park. Oh, and by the way, I have a new minimum mph time whenever I step on the treadmill for a short run because I'm so hard core that I REQUIRE a challenge for myself all the time...
Ha. Ha. Hahahahahaaaaa.
Silly girl. Here's what I forgot:
I was on my feet ALL DAY before getting on that treadmill. I wasn't just standing or walking, I was climbing and jumping and lifting and pulling and balancing. When I wasn't on my feet, I was on my knees. So who do I think I am? I am not so special that my body is exempt from wear. I am not exempt from bad days. I am not so special that I don't need a little slack once in awhile.
I stopped the treadmill and stretched and tried not to panic on the inside. I started the treadmill again and ran 2 more miles at a very comfortable pace where I could sing along to my music in order to test my comfort level. (I'm sure my fellow treadmill-ers along side me love when I do that.) This is .6 mph slower than my usual treadmill pace. I'm glad I can run. I'm glad that my body tells me when I need to get over myself, and just enjoy the fact that I can do it.