Rest.
Day.
Every time I say those words, I feel like I just finished the end of a prayer, and I need to seal the deal with an “amen”.
No, no. Not just an “amen”.
Definitely an “amen sista”.
I know that the words “rest day” might not seem as significant to you, because maybe you’re one of those ‘runner types’. Maybe you were born to run. Ran before you crawled. You ran a sub-3:50 marathon at the age of 10. Me? Not so much.
Running is a constant battle for me. My body does not want to run, nor is it built to do anything of the sort. I’m built more like a bodybuilder or a field hockey player…maybe a softball player. But definitely not a runner. My legs are short, my chest is ginormous, and I am insanely inflexible. Every time I strap on my runners, I am essentially laughing in the face of my genetic makeup and saying,
“Ha! Take that genes! Just try to tell me that I’m not a runner!”
Tuesday, I jogged.
Wednesday, I jogged with a little walking.
Yesterday, I nearly crawled.
I have to give myself a little credit though, because on Tuesday, I did tell you that I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t want to be a wussy and just adopt the idea in advance that I couldn’t run 3 days in a row. I have clearly proven to myself that I can run 3 days in a row again, and I can run 3 days in a row without sustaining an injury or dealing with pain in my leg/knee/calf. It feels good to know that a year of physical therapy plus the slow base building I’ve been doing has paid off. Patience has allowed me to train for a 1/2 marathon.
Today is just one of those introspective days. I’m replaying in my head all of the events that have occurred during the past 5 years of my life, and I feel so thankful that I’ve persevered.
And continue to persevere.
Amen sista.
