I feel a little tired right now. It’s not the sort of tired that you feel when you haven’t gotten enough sleep. This is the good feeling of tired that you get when you’ve had a good work out. It is good to feel something. It is good to feel anything…
I am at a strange stage of my grieving. I no longer cry on the way to work. I just drive. Throughout my days I watch the world moving past, I observe but don’t experience life as before, I feel like I am drowning but am unable to ask for help. I think back to a month or two ago and wonder if experiencing the intense pain was better than this. I suppose it is part of the process.
This morning, I set the alarm 30 minutes earlier so that I could run before work. I haven’t been able to break away for a lunch break in many days. It’s been wearing on me. When I am running, and “training” for the marathon, I begin to have feeling. It isn’t always pleasant, but it is feeling.
I wish that I could say that I did get up and run this morning but I didn’t. The alarm went off but I remained in bed. As I’ve done each day, I threw my running gear into my bag and drove to work pretty certain that I would not be able to any of it.
Today’s workout called for more intervals. If I had done my workout this morning, I would have done my intervals on the track instead. I didn’t want to wait until I got home; that is too uncertain and I am too spent by the end of my day.
Instead, I had garminia measure out 1 mile for each speed intervals and half-mile recoveries. The target pace was 7:20-7:30/mile. I hoped that I could do better than I did on last week’s 800s. I ran easy for 2 miles. This got me past several trucks that were on the same path as me. I hit the “lap” button and picked up the pace. I ran fast and hard. I could feel myself breathing hard, and I pumped my arms vigorously to propel me forward. My ponytail swished side to side as I listened to the crunch-crunch of each footfall. It felt good.
Part way through the interval, I could feel my running slowing. NO! I protested. My breathing became harsh as I continued running into the wind. I tried to continue propelling myself forward with the pumping of my arms. It was no use; I was slowing down.
By the time the interval was complete (7:38) I was beyond tired. I bent over the side of the road, coughed and spewed the accumulated mucus. I nearly threw up, but didn’t. As this went on, I stayed aware. I didn’t feel good anymore, but I *did* feel alive.
The second interval was better (7:33) as I had the wind at my back. I did my cool down and returned to my office for more of the same only now I am a little more conscious of the world around me.