Sweaty Saturday

Welcome to Sweaty Saturday! And we're diving straight in, going to get all emotional right away. I'm going to share with you something I wrote back in the summer after a particularly difficult running workout. I posted it to the blog that night and removed it within 12 hours. I wasn't sure if you were all ready to read something more intense from me! Mostly, I wasn't sure if I was ready to share it. There is something so comforting and easy about keeping this blog light and airy. But that's not realistic. Life isn't always light and airy, and as all runners know, running isn't always easy and comforting. As far as I know, my mom was the only one to see this post before I took it off and she said it made her cry. Mom, that was not my intention! 

So here it goes, my first Sweaty Saturday post (originally written after a crummy run in June):

Tonight, I did one of the hardest running workouts I have over the past year. Lots of hills, lots of speed, lots of pain. And there’s times during workouts like these that I wonder why. Why do I put myself through this? Nobody’s forcing me. Why do I run till it hurts? I don’t even like to run all that much.

But then I remember what I do like.

Competing.
Racing.
And winning doesn’t hurt either.

There was a time in my running career I did just that. I competed. I raced. I won. In high school I ran with a fearlessness that I now forget I even had. I would line up next to a bunch of girls just knowing I was going to crush them. And if I didn’t crush them, I knew that I would be right up on their heels making them work their ass off to beat me. Then, senior year of high school, I broke my ankle in the middle of the qualifying race to the state meet. My mentality hasn’t quite been the same since. I’ve been scared. And in some races, I’ve down right given up.

I’ve been told since my final collegiate race that I had such a great career and have so much to be proud of. And that is a really happy, sweet, sugar coated way of looking at it. And in some facets that’s true. I did accomplish a lot and have things to be proud of. But the hardcore truth is that I didn’t do what I was recruited to do.

I didn’t do what I know for a fact I was capable of.

Ever since that season ending race my senior year in HS, I’ve been running full of fear. But who knows, that may have happened with or without the broken ankle. I may have still shown up to the race line in college, seen the other fast girls, and gotten completely scared.

My mind got in the way. And that is why I will continue to put myself through miserable (for me, at least) 90+ minute runs and speed workouts that I think my legs will fall off during. Because I know I have so much more that I can accomplish and will be proud of. I just need to get back to that naïve 16-year old running mentality I once had. I’ll get there. I’m working on it.

Now, don't go thinking that I am just some mental head case. Although, with my running, sometimes I feel like I am! I think that year+ break after BGSU was just what I needed and I'm ready to get back to kicking some butt.

I read this post before heading out to do my 2x10 minute hilly Tempo Intervals and it served as great motivation when I got tired! Ended up doing the first 10 minutes at 6:37 mile pace and the second at 6:22 mile pace. Breezed through it today! And you know what I said to myself when I was finished? "F***ing right, Autumn, F***ing right!" I obviously spend way too much time with a foul-mouthed hockey player.

Schönes Wochenende! Tschüss!