4-5 times a week, I do this to myself. I sleep in parts of my workout outfit and lay out the rest of my gear the night before. Everything is in the living room so I dont wake up slumbering SOB. My Garmin 305 is charged, my Ipod is synched up to my ever rotating playlist, and I have the bad weather gear nearby in case. It's all routine.
My alarm goes off right at 5:02am and I typically roll out like a rodeo clown from a barrel. I'm out the door at 5:20 and stretching outside on the benches by 5:30. After a couple minutes of searching for a satellite, my Garmin locates me, and I'm off.
My pace is always much faster on my first run interval... typically at 9:40-9:50 min/mile. In my head, I kid you not, I'm counting down seconds until my walk break. When I get bored, I make a deal with myself that if I make it to the next lamp post in 5 seconds, I'll check my watch. Oh, and I do some heavy duty people watching. Nothing like hot ass runner watching in the wee morning hours.
This goes on...and on...and on until 2.5 miles or around 30 minutes. I'd go longer, but I just dont have the time.
I'm just here to get it done. Train. Move my butt. Make it easy... whatever. This certainly isn't a Nike ad quality workout. It's just work.
Nike: King of Inspiration Marketing.
And if you read through all of that, I'm surprised. I'm even boring myself. And that's the point. These training runs are not important or interesting to me anymore. When people ask how my morning runs go or how I could wake up that early to run on some gravel path, I lack the enthusiasm I once had. I dont share details of how my pace was or if I got any hellos from hobos. I just did it. It's become a no motivation, low energy, get-it-done-and-shower kind of deal.
I once read that people who do sports or work on their fitness should be proud. I mean, how many people are honestly up at 5am and running? How many do it in rain, snow, fog, wind? How many do it, period? In this city, there are 2.6 million people- 239,000 are my age, half are female. I've already bested the majority of those people by just stepping foot outside the door and walking at more than a 19 minute mile.
But I certainly dont feel like it's an accomplishment anymore. It's become so routine and mundane. Even moments of pure beauty, when the sun is rising off the lake or birds seemingly chase me down the path, I cant find energy in it. It's all tired and old news.
I'm blaming it on my current relapse of depression. Currently, everything is nothing to me. Just a big blank empty slate that I am not willing to fill up. Maybe running, my once favorite thing in the world, has fallen to it. I'm hoping my 12.5 mile long run on Sunday will help me get it back. I never feel better than when I hit a new accomplishment or when my leg muscles feel like they are peeling off the bone.
In other news... I'm selling two or four PAUL MCCARTNEY tickets for his July 31st, Wrigley Field show. You want them? Bid on Ebay!
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