Over the past two years that I have adapted a running regimen into my fitness training I have overcome many obstacles. Every person who runs goes through the same mental and physical stumbling blocks as they persist onward in pursuit of their running game.
Pretty much this is a snapshot of my progression –
Can I get motivated enough to get off the couch when that bag of Cheetos is seducing me?
I hate running!
Why does a 5K have to be 3.1 miles?
What do you mean there are no beer stands along the way to the finish line? I must wait until I’m done?
Why does every damn race seem to start at the God-awful buttcrack of dawn?
Oh great, Mother Nature has decided to be a twat and make it rain on race day.
Hey, these 5K’s are getting easier. I think I can add more distance to my next race.
Sweet Mother of God, why the heck did I sign up to run in a 5-mile race? Am I brain-damaged?
Yes, I think I am while hitting mile 4 in sweltering swamp-ass weather.
Why are my nipples bleeding?
OUCH – duct tape was not a good idea!
I’m feeling so much better during these runs. Getting faster. Adding more distance. 10K time.
Damn you Jack Frost! I’m freezing my ass off on these winter training runs.
6.2 miles. Why? This would be so much easier in a car.
Chafing. The struggle is real.
Did I mention that I really hate running?
I want to kill the asshole who left his dog crap on the path I am running on of which I just stepped in.
Wait – was that really dog poop?
As I run around Central Park old ladies, the blind, and octogenarians are passing me. WTF???
Here comes my birthday! Time to party!
Why did I just sign up for my first half marathon? On my birthday.
Hey, it’s just 13.1 miles. I can do this!
Hey, it’s just 13.1 miles. Of torture. On my birthday. Am I an idiot?
That was an ok first 5 miles. Now where is the damn porta-pottie?
Yup, I am an idiot.
Did I just shart myself on mile 8? What is that smell?
Why am I just now only seeing the mile 9 sign?
I definitely think I sharted myself.
Hey, it’s mile 10, only a 5K more to go!
I have lost track of time and space. How many days has it been?
Mile 11. Sweet Angel of Death take me now.
Yes – the mile 12 sign! I can’t feel anything below my waist at this point.
To the people along the course cheering us on and yelling at me to “finish strong” – GO EFF YOURSELVES!!!
Crossing the finish line and having that medal handed to me after 13.1 miles – JUBILATION!!!
I swear I am never doing that to myself again. Nope. Nope. Nope. Not happening.
Oh look, a half marathon coming up next month. Maybe?
I really hate running. Sometimes. Dammit, here we go again.