I almost spit out my coffee laughing when I saw the above photo. Mostly because it perfectly sums up my run yesterday. Good grief. I am out of shape. I don’t even know how I managed to run 26.2 miles nearly six months ago. Wait, maybe because it was six freaking months ago. It never fails to amaze me just how quickly you get out of shape and just how hard it is to get back in shape.
I love the running paths by our house, but I swear they are 90% hills. Or maybe it just feels that way because I’m already huffing and puffing halfway up the first one. Also, my run only lasted two miles before I felt like I’d been steamrolled by a Mack truck. I’ll go ahead and file that little fact under my “Well-I-used-to-be-a-marathoner” and “Holy-crap-why-is-it-so-hard-to-breathe?” running experiences lately.
Hills: 1. Elyse: 0.
At least my sore muscles are a reminder that I am, in fact, working to get back in shape. While it’s demoralizing to realize running such a short distance can kick my ass, I also realize my ass has been sitting on the couch the past few months.
So for now, I‘ve decided to embrace the soreness and fatigue as signs that I’m on the right path to becoming the runner I used to be. I know I’ll get there… one pesky hill at a time.