7 Miles

I debated in my head as to whether I should share the following update, as I made a questionable health/fitness decision, but in the end, this is my Chubby Diary, and I want to record the (good and bad) journey of this marathon.

So after my adventure at Boot Camp on Friday night, I was scheduled to run 7 miles with my dad on Saturday morning, at Lake Miramar. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I started to not feel well at about midnight-ish, and I ended up puking at 3am. I felt 100% better after that. But then from 5:30am-6am I had the #3's...if you know what I mean. ;0) But luckily the kids slept in until 7am (WHAT!?), and when we all got out of bed, I was feeling quite a bit better...not 100%, but OK. I was going back and forth as to whether I should cancel the run with my dad, but I decided to eat some Cherrios, and see if I could hold that down/in. And sure enough, a half hour later, nothing was going on, so I decided to continue on with my plans. I have completed a 6 mile run the 2 previous Saturdays, so 7 miles shouldn't be too bad. I grabbed my water, and becuase I felt a little under the weather, I bought a couple of bottles of Gatorade on the way also. I was set.

We started out, and the first mile is always the worst, until your body gets warmed up. I told myself, "OK, you just have to do this 6 more times." We got to 2 miles, and I wasn't feeling so good. But I told myself, "OK, just 5 miles to go. YOU CAN DO THIS!" And then, we got to 3 miles. I was dying! (Not literally) My stomach was bugging, I wasn't feeling the run. At the 3.5 mile marker my dad suggested we stop...I NEVER want to stop, but whatever, I did. We stopped for a minute, and then we started running again. I didn't have it in me. I told him to go on ahead and do the 7 miles, and that I would walk and meet him at the truck (the 5 mile marker). He went on ahead.

As I was walking, I was beginning to hate EVERYTHING about this trip. I hated the 10am sun reflecting off of the lake and beating down on my face. I hated that I had chosen to wear a 3/4 length sleeve shirt...I was longing for something cooler. I hated the smell of nature...the trees were making me sick. I was annoyed by the little caterpillars that were out in full force...I had to focus on not killing them as I ran by. This was the worse run EEEEEEVER.

I walked for a couple of minutes and as I could see my dad distancing himself even farther and farther from me, I asked myself, "Are you in or are you out!? Get GOING! YOU CAN DO THIS!"

So I started running again. I caught up to my dad, and I was just fighting through the run. I hated it. I felt sick. After about a half mile, I had to walk again. :0( We made it to the truck (5 miles) and I said lets keep going, we are making it to 7 miles. But I was dying. My dad kept encouraging me, as he knew my desire to keep going. But pretty soon even walking sucked. My dad had suggested a couple of times, "How about we run just from here to there for a little bit." But I responded with, "Yeah, that's gonna be a no-go!" Because we didn't run the whole thing, and since walking takes longer than running, time became the issue. I needed to get Wyatt to his drum lessons. We turned around, and we only ended up going a little over 6 miles.

I felt defeated. I didn't do it! I didn't do the 7 miles! I suck! I felt HORRIBLE! The only thing I wanted to do was go home and lay in bed for the next 48 hours. But instead, I took Wyatt to his drum class, and then we went home. I was so achy and nauseous. I laid down to take a nap, but my body was too uncomfortable to actually fall asleep. I tossed and turned for 3 hours. When Bea woke up from her nap, I was grateful for the excuse to get out of bed. Resting was not restful.

The rest of the day was pretty sketchy, but by evening time, I felt up to eating a little bit of food, I took an IBprofen, and I felt MUCH better. I had a great night of sleep, the kids slept until 7am again (WHAT!?) and I felt like a million bucks this morning. My body feels 100%, but my mind is still sore from the events at the lake. My joy from/about running is deflated. I never wanna run more than 3 miles again.

We showed up at church this morning, and what was on the cover of the church bulletin!?:



God is so faithful. Of course there will be tiny little beads of doubt until I actually complete the full 7 (or more) miles...but for right now, I need to "forget the former things"...I need to forget about yesterday's run. I was sick. "I need to not dwell on the past"...I need to remember that I completed two 6 mile runs just weeks before, and I did that with little issue. I need to focus on the positive achievements I made. I started out at, and love a good 3 mile run, but that's not the end to Elizabeth's running..."See that I am doing a new thing!", says the Lord...I have comfortably accomplished 7 other runs that exceed 3 miles. I WILL be able to do this! (I hope. HAHAHA!)