Yesterday I ran a half marathon. (That's 13.1 miles for those of you lucky enough not to be stuck in mental and physical vortex that is a running hobby.) Near mile 7, Chasing Pavements by Adele began to play on my MP3 player. Over and over I heard Adele ask herself, "Should I give up? Or should I just keep chasing pavements? Even if it leads nowhere..." Fatigue, a headwind and roads full of frozen slush definitely begged the same question but the lyrics about unrequited affection also mirrored the latest analysis of my love-hate relationship with running. As Adele admitted to pouring emotional energy into something that is not panning out, I wondered the same thing. Why on earth do I run?
I really do love to run. It gives me some personal time and helps me feel strong and confident. Lately, however, my heart (and other body parts) haven't been into it. When my running partner moved in December and then was stricken with a stress fracture, I realized how dependent on someone else I have become even to reach my own goals. In an attempt to ward off an impending birthday crisis, last year I determined to run 4 Utah marathons in 2010. Evidently, setting the goal didn't work and neither did forking out all the money for race registrations. Self-sabotage has taken over and I have let a serious lapse in training add to my spiraling self-concept. What is wrong with me?!
Anyway, to answer Adele's and my own question, yes, I am going to keep chasing pavements even though it doesn't seem to be leading anywhere. I am trying to recommit to my original goal to train well and enjoy this year of running. Bring on the marathons...