I admit that I’ve been running tired lately. Not just in my sports bra and tennis shoes
but elsewhere in my life too. It’s
during this time that I’m always reminded of my high school track career. In high school I ran the 800. I wasn't the best but I was consistently
okay. And by consistently, I mean I ran
the 800 in two minutes and forty-four seconds five (or more) races in a row.
I trained hard. And,
I was determined to experience a breakthrough in how fast I was running. When spring break rolled around, I even
headed to Florida with my girlfriends and packed a list of workouts from my
coach in my suitcase. I’d get up and run
while my friends were all still asleep.
When I returned from spring break, I was sure that I would start knocking the time off but instead I ran the 800 in two minutes and forty-four seconds, again! I was frustrated but instead of giving up, I kept running and kept training.
I hit the start line for my last race of the season with
more butterflies in my stomach than ever and I crossed the finish line feeling
like I left everything I had on the track.
As I walked toward my coach, I could hear him yelling “two forty-four”
which stopped me in my tracks. To my
surprise, what he was yelling at me was not two minutes and forty-four seconds
but rather two minutes and forty POINT four seconds.
I think around every corner that we run tired is a triumph –
a breakthrough. I believe the humid days
enable us to enjoy the cool morning runs when breathing is easy. And, I'm looking forward to that triumph soon after
many days of running tired!
**AN UPDATE**
Triumph did follow disguised as the coldest Bix7 in history. A picture-perfect running day!
Triumph did follow disguised as the coldest Bix7 in history. A picture-perfect running day!
Nice post I assume round each corner that run tired is a triumph a leap forward. I accept as true with the humid days permit us to experience the cool morning runs when respiration is easy. And, I'm looking ahead to that triumph soon after many days of going for walks worn-out!my belly than ever and that i crossed the finish line feeling like I left everything I had at the tune. I'm doing custom essay As I walked towards my coach, I could hear him yelling two 40-four which stopped me in my tracks. To my marvel, what he turned into yelling at me was no longer minutes and forty-four seconds however as a substitute minutes and forty factor 4 seconds.
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