This morning I stepped on the scale for the first time in awhile.
161.2. Ugh. It has been just about 2 years since I have breached the 160 mark.
I actually welcomed this development. Bring it on, scale. I have been eating with complete disregard for my health for months now. I can say with pride that I’ve stepped it up since that post and actually cook a meal at home maybe twice a week now.
I’ve let some habits fall. I never said it was easy. But I never stopped running. (Except for that time I did.)
That’s my mile time at the time trial at track club tonight.
My first year at track club, I ran 8:20 for my first mile time trial.
Last year, I ran 7:19.
The time off and reduced pressure I’ve put on myself this winter has been really, really good for me. I love running. I’ve found my sweet spot. Read that post from last year. I was trying to push myself to a new place and I was unhappy. This year I’m just checking off the miles, and doing all other things that make me happy. Like skiing. Can you believe ski season is almost over? 🙁
But back to track club. I remember last year, and the year before, looking around and feeling so new. And all the features and concepts were so foreign — splits and zones and 10K pace. This year I look around and I recognize almost everyone. Track club is now a way of life and it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing. I can’t imagine the summer running season without it.
Much of the art of running is about the art of pacing. I feel that I have really put my time in and learned that in the past year. I didn’t know how to push myself hard and make it hurt … and stick with it … before. But I have practiced that a lot in the pursuit of all these bibs and medals.
Strength and weight matter, sure, but I have learned a lot (and have more to learn) about form and pace. I am a much more efficient runner than I was 1000 miles ago. And I am a smarter runner.