My 5 Gold Stars

As I mentioned in my previous post, "training" is a new thing to me as a runner. Sure, I made a training schedule for each of my half-marathons. They were based off of Hal Higdon's training plan, but modified by me to fit into my work/life schedule. And then I proceeded to procrastinate on getting started. And then I skipped a few runs... or cut them short. I officially named the plan "Allison makes this crap up and then changes it to fit her fancy". Needless to say, that whole plan didn't work very well for me.

St. Jude Hero! Yay!

Last Sunday when Adam e-mailed me my training plan, I was pumped and ready to go. I've always been a bit of a goody-two-shoes when it comes to teachers, coaches, and authority. You know, the little brat who still had all 5 of her gold stars at the end of the week for "good behavior"? Yeah, that was me. A suck-up in the presence of authority, but when the teacher turned her back I was launching erasers across the room with the contraption I had made from my supply box and pencils.

Me at the peak of brattiness. You want me to smile? Well I'll do it, but I might not be happy about it. 

When Adam sent me the plan, I was absolutely determined to do exactly what he said.
 I had no intentions of loosing my 5 gold star status in the first week.

For example, Monday, he told me to run 2 easy miles. If I couldn't say "Why did I hire stupid Adam as my coach?" in between breaths, I was going too fast. I headed out the door, checking myself at least every two minutes to make sure I was running at the right pace.

As I was trotting along, I noticed a huge black cloud that looked like it would be over my head at any minute. Then suddenly, the wind picked up majorly and the temperature dropped about 10 degrees. Before I knew it, some hipster stopped his car right beside me and yelled, "You better run home, there is a (*flipping*) tornado on Poplar!"

This was the storm above me as I was running. 

I was about 0.5 miles from home, but had looped around the neighborhood and was at exactly 1 mile. Since I'm not stupid, I turned around and headed back towards my house. However, since I am a goody-two-shoes and refused to tell Adam I had wimped out of a lousy 2 mile run because of the weather (how lame would that excuse sound?), I didn't go home.

I ran up and down my street, back and forth, until my Garmin vibrated that I had hit 2 miles. Sure, I looked over my shoulder every 15 seconds to see if the tornado was approaching, and when a tree branch fell and hit a truck right behind me I think my heart rate jumped to about 500, but I finished out those 2 miles, dang-it.

See? Branches in the street = danger. 

Turns out, I think the hipster was being a tiny bit dramatic. There was no tornado.

The rest of the week, I continued to surprise myself with how much better I was running when I went out with a plan. The thought of having to report that I went slower than expected for no reason other than I just didn't feel like it made me actually TRY. (As opposed to just giving up when I get bored or when it gets even slightly difficult. )

There wasn't an option to cut a run short unless my femur cutting through broken skin or something. There was no way I was going to get anything less than an A+ on my weekly report card, so I pushed myself.  I give myself 5 gold stars.

If you haven't heard, neon shoes + training makes you faster and stronger. 

I'm thinking I could get used to this thing you guys call "training". I did a smart thing, hiring Adam as my coach. I absolutely need to push myself more physically, but what has prevented me from doing so in the past is what goes on in my head.

The fact that he knows what he's doing and wouldn't tell me to do something I can't gives me the confidence to get out there and just do it. At some point I'm sure I will honestly mean it when I mutter under my breath, "Why did I hire stupid Adam as my coach?", and possibly even launch virtual erasers at the back of his head. But for now, he gets an apple for being a good coach and teacher.