Which, quite frankly, is saying something.
I received an email implying that maybe I don't run the 15-20 miles a week that I said I do. Which is stupid, because why do I care if someone out there in Internet land believes me or not?
But it got me thinking that maybe I should pay a little more attention. Most of the time, I do not run for distance or speed, but for time. As in, I'm going to run for 30 minutes today. Not because I want to run for 30 minutes, but because I only have 30 minutes to spare. It is quite informal, actually. I note the mileage on the treadmill, but I'm notoriously bad at math.
Case in point: a couple of weeks ago, I ran 2.5 miles before hopping off to grab a drink of water. I decided, given my distance at that point, I'd run a total of 5 miles before calling it a day. So, I ran another 3.5 miles.
WHICH...counting is precisely while I don't run for mileage. It is sort of amazing I got through elementary school. But to be fair, I have other talents. I can't name them at the moment, but I'm sure they are there.
(Thanks for going along with me on that.)
Anyway, back to the topic at hand: mileage. I decided to pick a week and prove to myself that I'm actually running the 15-20 miles a week that I said was. Since all of this is arbitrary anyway, I decided to start counting on Saturday. It made me nervous, too, because it was a holiday weekend, and I had even less time to spend at the gym than usual. I was sure I was setting myself up for failure, because my longer runs are normally on the weekends. But on Saturday, I had all of 50 minutes if I was going to get home and showered before my cousin and her kids came over to play in our backyard.
But, as always, I digress:
Saturday: 5 miles
Sunday: 5 miles
Monday: 5 miles
Tuesday: OFF
Wednesday: 6.5 miles
Today is Thursday. I'm not planning on going to the gym again until Saturday unless a miracle happens and I suddenly have time.
And before anyone says anything, those are my typical days to work out in a given week. Trevor and I alternate going to the gym on Saturday and Sunday during Banner's nap time. I'm off on Mondays, and usually can find someone to watch Banner for 30 minutes to an hour. And Wednesdays are Trevor's day to pick up Banner from daycare. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.
Sure, there are days when Mondays are impossible or I take a nap on a Sunday instead of going to the gym. Those are the weeks I'm probably closer to 15 miles, but that is why I gave a 15-20 mile range.
And, no. Nothing about any of this is spectacular in any way, shape or form. My pace is 6.5 mph, on average. I run on a treadmill because my veins suck and it is 100+ degrees outside. I'm a mother. I work full time. I generally only have 30-60 minutes to spare at the gym when I go. And some weeks I hardly make it to the gym at all. There was a time when I ran faster, longer and more often, but this is what I can do now. I like to think it helps me keep up with my very fast toddler, but it isn't like I have the thighs for the spandex I bought to run in at the beginning of the summer.
And, honestly, I'm just happy the mileage added up just like I thought it would. But I double checked on my iPhone's calculator just in case. God bless technology that saves me from the horrors of simple addition. Because where would I be without it? Oh, yeah...in an alternate universe where 2.5 + 3.5 = 5.
O.M.G.
No comments:
Post a Comment