I haven't made it out the door once this week for my AM runs. I wake to hit "snooze," "dismiss," or, I just plain don't hear my alarm.
I've rescheduled for the PM, pushed to the next day, and today, I did the one-two punch of rescheduling for the PM this morning and then pushing to tomorrow this evening when I got home with a tight window before sundown and a serious case of the lazy.
Despite what appears to be a lack of commitment, slowly, but surely, I'm actually regaining the speed that I lost over the last 6 months of leisurely distance training. I've dropped 48 seconds from my speed-check 3-mile loop over the last several weeks. I'm getting there.
But, of course, I'm not gaining speed to get there nearly as quickly as I projected.
I never do.
Occasionally, when I speak with my running (or non-running) friends about my life and my running schedules, I hear people refer to me as "disciplined." Let's be clear -- I'm not disciplined, I'm an optimist. If I was disciplined, I wouldn't sleep past my AM runs. I wouldn't reschedule. I wouldn't opt for delicious mexican food and margaritas the night before a long run when the original plan had been vegetables and yoga.
But I do. Because, I'm an optimist -- I set goals that are unreasonable unless you are a machine, and then, in my non-mechanic way, while living a non-mechanic life, I try to sort-of, kind-of, meet them. From this process, I have learned, all it takes is effort, and from the far-away view, you look disciplined.
So, tomorrow AM, I'll be getting up to run a very slow, easy 6 miles before a day of work followed by a healthy meal of vegetables and yoga before bed. Why? Because I completely bailed on today. Today's 6 miler this AM? Didn't even happen, despite last night's early bedtime and super-healthy meal. But tomorrow? Tomorrow is another day. And, I'm an optimist.
Speaking of bailing and being an optimist -- Today, I bailed on this weekend's scheduled race, where I had foolishly set a goal of running a 1:50 half marathon. My recent speed training sessions have convinced me that I'm not yet ready to hit anywhere near that speed. Plus, my sister had a cooking-bathing combo injury (not kidding!) and so I'd be running solo, all for a trip without E. So, I bailed on the race. I'll be doing a short 6 and a medium 14 miles solo this weekend. Slowly. At nothing close to the race pace I'd hoped for. See... not disciplined. But, I have learned that compensatory actions, over the long haul, add up.
As a testament to that, week-by-week, ever since my last marathon, when I acknowledged I needed to put in some more effort to be quick, I've been getting faster. Even if it isn't anywhere near the speed gains that I'd hope for, there are gains, and I appreciate them.
In short, as I call it a night in this evening of laziness and think optimistic thoughts for tomorrow and this weekend, I'd like to point out that every inch is an inch, my friends -- and, the big secret is, most people mistake distance for discipline.