Don’t Call it a Comeback…yet

Yeah, it’s an LL Cool J kind of morning. You’re welcome for the earworm!

This week, I restarted C25K in preparation of a race next month and eventual half marathon training (11 months, holy…). Typically, my C25K starting point is actually the C/couch, where I have been perched for several months. And it’s hard. It’s so, SO hard. That first one minute run feels like an hour.

This time around, I had only been out of commission for 2-3 weeks, so that first one felt… good. And the pace was… pretty decent, actually. And immediately upon finishing, I made plans with my running pal, Sara, to go running again.

And then we did! Last night, I did my Day 2 run and it was still good. Pace was slightly slower, but still well below my usually Week 1 pace. And yeah, I was out of breath. And yeah, my calves hurt (I blame the wedges I was rocking at work yesterday). But it was just… good.

I like good. I would like to keep having it feel good. Because good feels good!

Here’s the thing. I’ve never made it past Week 6. I think this is because Week 6 sucks, but it could be because I am a habitual non finisher*.

And this time, week 6 coincides with my first race since the October, in which I finished last in my age group.



That was not a great feeling.

This journey has been full of plenty of great feelings (the first time I ran a full mile) and a whole lot of not so great feelings (last year’s Diva Dash). But it is always full of feelings. Always.

Right now, the feeling is anxiety. Not a lot, but I can feel it growing. I get ridiculous race-day anxiety, every time, to the point where I panic as soon as I start running and can’t continue (I can walk, and I always finish the course, but I CANNOT run). And it happens most days when I run at all, although not at the same level. I’m always anxious that I’m not going to be able to do it. (I’m not sure what my brain thinks happens if I can’t do it, but it is definitely scared).

Clearly, anxiety does NOT feel good. And I need to learn how to work around it. Which, in fact, is actually the point of the race I booked next month – to start getting used to it again so that next April, I don’t have a heart attack on the Atlantic City Boardwalk and run into a casino to hide.

I haven’t really found a way to get rid of the anxiety yet. Maybe there isn’t one, but I have to believe there are at least ways to make it more manageable. And once I get that under control?

I’m gonna knock you out 😉 **

*Please note my not using the word quitter. I don’t want Meri to give me the look.

** Please pardon the cheese. It’s early and I’ve given up coffee. And cheese.

So, help a girl out? Tell Bec she’s not alone in the race anxiety. Tell her how you work through it. Tell her to suck it up and stop crying like a little girl with a skinned knee.