Every time I've finished a running race lately, I vow to put running aside and get back on my bike.
And then another race comes up and I run again.
On the Fourth of July, I did the Good Neighbor Day 10k (same race I did the day after my mom's funeral last year)...
I feel like that one is going to be a tradition/ritual for me.
This year, I felt more like a runner as I found my way to the start and felt even more like a runner when I came through the first lap in twenty-five minutes.
I'm not chasing a particular time or result, but I'm trying to learn how to pace myself.
I'm toying with the idea of doing a half-marathon with a good friend of mine...if that's the case, I may finally tap into my husband's wisdom and cobble together an actual training plan.
Last time I formally trained for an athletic endeavor was cross...
Maybe it's time for a little structure again, I don't know.
On the flip side, I did get back on my bike this week.
I treated myself to a babysitter and enjoyed a solid ninety minutes riding in the woods.
(still got it)
Although my legs hadn't recovered from the 10k, I still climbed just fine and felt very comfortable on the trails.
It was fun to zone out and just pedal at my own pace...sometimes casually, sometimes hard.
Before springtime, I was determined to put cross back on my radar and train for racing again.
Now, I am not so sure.
Or rather, I'm pretty sure I'm not delving back into that with all my heart yet.
The beauty of this little conundrum is that my decision isn't really all that important either way...
Are you ever just so thankful that you actually like sweating/maxing out your heart rate/conquering big hills/trying to rip the competition's legs off (even when the competition is just yourself)?
I don't know what makes me this way, but I'm certainly thankful to have found happiness on two wheels/two feet.