It was two months ago today that I did the half marathon in Nashville ... or, more accurately ... when the half marathon in Nashville did me.
Ever since then, I've been in a funk when it comes to running. I haven't missed a single day, and I don't intend to, but the motivation just hasn't seemed to be there. I find myself worried when I run, tentative.
Is this an ordinary pain that I can push through ... or am I about to pass out?
I logged a little over three miles this morning, and the hill that I usually motor up without a problem got to me and I wound up walking a little bit. The long homestretch ... yeah ... I walked some more. My legs felt like concrete.
Here's the thing. Yes, it's been a lot warmer in the mornings than before I did Nashville. I've been taking a class at the Y that's left me wrung out, and we walked EVERYWHERE at church camp last week. That includes going up and down Mount Everest twice a day to chapel.
I'm tired, and I'm a little timid after Nashville. But I'm not giving up. Ever. That ain't gonna happen.