Some days are just harder than others

Some days are just harder than others. Like yesterday.  As I headed out for my long run (a planned 22km), I was looking forward to my workout. The sun was shining, I was well-fueled, it was a balmy -1 degrees celsius and I was happily anticipating a mellow run at a relaxed pace along my favourite routes.

Not far up the road, however, I realized there wasn't going to be anything relaxed or mellow about this run.

Hard-packed snow and ice covered the sidewalks and trails ahead of me. The muscles in my legs, butt and core tensed hard to keep my feet squarely under me - then stayed that way for 22 long kilometres - more than two hours of running. By the time I made it back to the house, every muscle in my body screamed and my legs throbbed with the special kind of pain you only get at the end of a long tough workout.  Sitting by the fire later, feeling slightly weepy and sorry for myself, I wondered why on earth I ever thought I liked running.

Of course, days like yesterday serve a purpose. They remind me that pain comes and goes, and that I'm a lot tougher mentally and physically than I ever thought I was. They also show me that it's okay to depend on other people for support sometimes and that sharing one's pain can make it a whole lot easier to bear.  By late afternoon, I was laughing aloud at the good humoured ribbing and advice my Facebook friends offered when I had the temerity to complain about my self-inflicted discomfort. Sure, it hurt - but how fortunate was I to be healthy and strong enough to make it through that kind of workout safely, not to mention to have a husband patient and indulgent enough to wait on me hand and foot when I finally made it back to the house? Really, it doesn't get much better than that.