And then, on Sunday, I told myself, "today is not about speed, but about endurance, take your time, you're in for the long haul." But even so, when I felt someone coming up behind me to pass me, I felt ashamed that some schlub was faster than me. But then, once he passed me and I saw he was an actual Kenyan - a perfect specimen of toned muscles covered in smooth chocolaty skin, wearing just these tiny little nylon shorts, I laughed in spite of myself. If the only person who passes me over the course of ten miles is a Kenyan - a person who comes out of the womb running - then I think I'm doing OK.
During the week I do short and quick treadmill runs. I still keep that post-it note, "Do Better Than Yesterday" to motivate myself and have been venturing into the six- and seven-something mile ranges on my short sprints. It pays off on my weekend outdoor runs. I PR'd in every category on my Nike+ app this weekend. When I started running without stopping to walk, my fastest mile was 9'03" and now I can do ten miles maintaining that pace. It's hard to believe what I can do when I actually give a shit.
I will be a normal person who goes out to eat here and there, drinks her Crane coffees and gets her Lamar's donuts once (or twice) a week, but mostly, eats what her body needs and gets in 30 minutes of exercise most days. I realize now that I didn't eat shitty food and sit around because it made me good; I did it because I felt shitty myself. This is the best I've felt in quite some time. Sweating releases bad energy so much better than chocolate does.