I didn't get out the door until 10am...which was epic fail number one.
Greeted by a wall of humidity the likes of which only happens when the temperatures are climbing fiercely towards 90+ degrees, it's been raining the previous evening and a monsoon arrived the day before, the weather was out to get me...epic fail number two.
Equipped with a Camelbak full of ice and cold water as well as a decent play list, I thought, it can't be so bad...it's only 7 miles..epic fail number three.
Forgetting that it was Dundee Days (a neighborhood celebration of parades, pancakes, candy, community pride and lots of people), I rounded a bend and headed up a steep hill only to see hundreds of my closest friends while I was nearing cardiac arrest. Thankfully, dear family friends chatted with me while I caught my breath, pet their dog and wished their sweet kiddos well.
But as the run progressed, I was withering. Drenched, sweating profusely and light headed, I knew it was stupid...but I couldn't stop myself.
And this is why I love long-distance running...not because it's a suicide mission in the making, but because it pushes the boundaries of your will farther than you can imagine and leaves you with a feeling of accomplishment, endorphins, and adrenaline that I've never found in anything else.
And then, I added this sweet song to my playlist..which is absolutely not classified as running material at all...but it took my mind off the pain and reminded me why we're here. You must take a listen and a watch.
And then, I pulled my ass through the park and I was home free...seven miles, rounding out my third week of training. And I realized that much like anything in life...the only way out is through.