I don’t know if running is normally a psychological sport the way swimming is, but it seems to be that way for me. If I don’t feel good by the time I’m rounding that first corner, it turns into a tough run for me. Today was one of those days. I’m still fighting a bit of a cold and didn’t sleep well last night. I woke up around 5 and couldn’t get back to sleep. But somehow I kept thinking it would be a good run today. I was sure. I had taken the day off yesterday, so my legs had a chance to rest up for today. I might even finish the loop without walking at all. I kept thinking that all morning… right until I took the first few steps out the front door.

By the time I was rounding that first corner and facing the first hill, I was already wondering if I should walk. I haven’t even considered walking up that hill in weeks. When I got to the hill, I made a choice. I chose to run. I didn’t decide to run up that first hill. I decided to run at least as much as I ran on Monday. That turned out to be a very tough decision, but I’m glad I was strong enough (mentally) to stick to it. Several times during the run I kept thinking about all the “reasons” I had for not feeling bad about walking, but I pushed through them all. The only time I walked was up the hill at Sycamore. The last mile was especially brutal. It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t fast. But it wasn’t walking.

A lot of times as I climb the last little hill and turn onto Mesquite, I know if I’m in contention for a new record. When I climbed that hill today, I had no idea. I didn’t let it stop me. I pushed hard around the last corner and may have even been “running” again by the time I got back.

31:41

When I beat the record by one second, can I doubt the value of that last push? Will I ever let myself walk to the finish line again? Let’s hope not.