I went for a late night run this evening. I’m impatient enough that I always jump back into running too long and too fast. I still enjoy the runs, but I don’t enjoy getting injured, and I don’t enjoy that it means taking a break. Today, I decided to reset. I wasn’t going to let my heart rate climb too high. I was just going to run easy, take my time, and feel good at the end. Unsurprisingly, it… worked.
One of the best ways to keep a conversational pace is to have a conversation, and the second best way is talking… to yourself. I’ve been talking to myself a lot lately, but it’s extra useful on runs. If I ever wonder whether I could have a conversation without huffing and puffing, I can just start talking, and not stop talking, and see how that feels. At some point (when you stop talking about running) the introspective think-speaking even gets kind of good.
Tonight I talked about publishing and recounted a few memories. I coached myself on my run out loud, reminding myself why I was running at that pace, where I wanted to get to, and how this was going to help. I’ve done that in my head before, but there’s something about the words hitting your ear that feels qualitatively different. It’s like the placebo of coaching—you know the words are coming from your mouth, but you hear them all the same.
Anyway, a proudly pathetic run. The first of many I’ll do, slowly building up to where I want to be. I love running, and I want to continue to love running, and I’m out of practice. The long roads are the best ones, even if they don’t always feel like it. I should just enjoy the fact that I’m here, and be thankful that I’m able-bodied.