11 September 2010

run. run. run.

Bad dress rehearsal, good performance.

This normally, of course, applies to the theater {or the theatre, depending on how pretentious and British I'm feeling}.  But I'm taking that mentality and running with it.


As in tomorrow, I'm running a half-marathon, and I just had this horrific 3-mile run.

3 miles.

And it felt like I was running through tar or molasses or cotton.

Or like I was on a road made of tar and I'd just been slathered in molasses and then rolled in cotton. And then fed a 12-course meal {where every course used either a pound of butter or a pound of heavy cream} before being told to take to the open road of stickiness.

Not exactly a shining moment of athleticism.

It certainly wasn't one of those runs that, by the end, I feel like I'm in step with the world and anything is possible. At the end of runs like that, I have enough energy to make a chocolate souffle while wearing an apron I just whipped up. At the very least, at the end of a run like that, I can take on my work day.

Today was not one of those days, and so I'm going with the bad dress rehearsal, good performance mentality.

Running is a mental sport, after all.  In my head while I'm running, there's a lot of, 'Okay, Mia, you can run one more mile.  Anyone can run a mile.  Okay, good.  Now, breathe in slowly.  Fill the diaphragm.  Focus, focus.'

Trust me, it's a lot more fun in my brain than that snippet would imply. I have to admit, while I'm running, there's also a lot of, 'What do I need to get at the grocery store? Why can't I get this song out of my head? Oooh, look at the how the shadows are moving on the path! I love cool morning runs. I'm going to have lots of coffee when I'm done with this. Dang. I'm out of cream. I should put that on the grocery list. Now, what else do I need to get there?'

This afternoon as I stretched on the living room floor—while watching the Iowa-Iowa State game, the only college football game I bet I'll watch this year—I was encouraged by this dress rehearsal thought.

I'm convinced that tomorrow, just before I start running at 8:30, my body will pull itself together and refuse to feel terrible while running. It will be motivated by how horrible today felt, and it will do better.

I think the massage I promised myself as a race reward will also help with the motivation. I am not above bribing my own body to behave.


  1. Bad dress rehearsal = good performance in my book!

  2. You did the half? That is awesome!

    I also had a HORRIBLE run on the 10th. I thought my legs were filled with cement. There must have been sort of crazy extra gravitational pull towards the earth that day...probably somehow connected to el niño, the BP oil spill, or Sarah Palin.



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