I’m a little more than halfway* through my own personal
hell summer runstreak. I’ve run at least 1 mile every single day since Memorial Day, totaling a little over 167 miles.
It’s going … well, with “well” meaning that I am sticking to my goals. I’m still swimming twice a week, and yesterday covered 1.5 miles in 49 minutes, which is still light years away from my 20-year-old, Division I practice pace, but not bad considering that just 5 weeks ago when I started, I was at 1 mile in an hour. I had to take a couple of weeks off the 2x a week strength training because my shoulders and back were killing me with the swimming (old rotator cuff injuries), but picked it back up last week. I’m definitely meeting my #fittestsummerever workout goals.
You know what #fittestsummerever is not conducive to? Fun. Relaxation. Loafing.
I’m 41. Maybe (and it pains me to say this. Pretty much everywhere right now.) I was a little ambitious with my workout goals for this summer.
I’m sick of running. I stopped posting my runs on Facebook because *I* couldn’t stand looking at my runs anymore. I am dutifully following my 10k training plan (my next race is Sept. 19th) for 4 days a week, and running at least a mile on the other 3 days, but I’m over it. I want a day off. I want one day where I don’t put on my sneakers, and workout clothes, and sweat. I want to do a hard 60min swim workout … and not still run a mile. Yes, I know, it’s only a mile, but it’s two workouts in one day.
It’s summer. And it’s almost over, for me anyway. I am teaching a summer class every morning for the next 2 weeks, and then it’s August and I’m back to work.
You may be thinking that I should just stop. That clearly if I’m not enjoying this little self-enforced regiment that I should just decide that the goal wasn’t right for me, and just do my 10k, 4x a week, running, with the swimming for 2 other days. You would be right. I should.
I just can’t. It’s a sickness. No, really. I’m not saying this with false modesty or humility, like “oh, look at me, I just wish I could loaf off on my promises to myself but I’m just that tenacious!” with the unspoken but inferred side-eye “which totally makes me superior.”
I really do think the wise, intelligent, enlightened plan of action would be to gracefully admit that I over-reached, and enjoy the last few weeks of my summer. I just … I have this judgy, snarky, inner voice that (I swear) is absolutely most judgy and snarky when it comes to myself, that says that to “change” plans is really to quit, and I am not a quitter.
I don’t quit when I should. And that doesn’t just apply to workout routines.
In many instances, this character trait serves me very well, but in certain arenas, it’s a self-defeating liability.
I’m going to work on it. I swear. As soon as I get to Labor Day and take a break.
*I think it’s 53%, rounded, but I teach English not math so I decided to go with “little more than halfway”.