It’s OK to Have a Bad Run
On Christmas Eve, I set out with the intention of running seven miles. It was an unseasonably warm 50 degrees out, so I was eager to hit the road and get a longer run in before the impending snowstorm swept in on Christmas day.
I was decked out in my best running gear: a quarter zip I got at the NYC Marathon Expo to remind myself that I’m a badass, my favorite lululemon leggings that always stay put, and my nice Nike sneakers that make me feel like I’m flying. I downloaded a new episode of the Girls Gotta Eat podcast, which I listen to religiously, and kissed the family pups goodbye as I hopped out the door, excited for the miles ahead.
I always forget that running in my suburban hometown is vastly harder than running in the city. Not only are there way more hills than there are in Boston, but there aren’t any sidewalks, so I have to contend with cars sharing the road and snow piles consuming precious real estate on the side of the street.
As I rounded the corner of a steep hill to finish out mile two, I felt heat creep from my chest to my neck, the temperature rising from pleasant to stifling. My gait felt off as I plodded up the hill, coming down hard on my feet and sending shockwaves through my shins. I focused on my breath to get it under control, but I couldn’t grasp onto it. Even as I went downhill, my whole body felt off and I was gassed. I…
