You don't want to waste your life, Baby

I taught an English comp class last night, then drove home and hit the road. I did 4.5 miles in about 49 minutes, which is better than what I expected, especially considering I had to walk a few times. I did, however, try to remember to walk *fast* when I walked, and that seemed to help. I don't know how to keep track of the splits, but my first 2 miles were miserably slow, and the following 2 were great, followed by the .5 of absolute agony. As I slogged up the last half mile it occurred to me why people sob after they've finished a marathon. I was SO tired by that point, and my legs felt like Jell-O, but I was determined not to walk so I just jogged oh-so-slowly. I imagined I was finishing a marathon, and how great it would feel to be exhausted but triumphant (running is such a mind game - I wouldn't be able to run if I didn't have such an overactive imagination *g*) as I neared the end. About halfway up the hill a song came on my iPod that really got me going. It was the Counting Crows "Murder of One" - a song that reminded me of my walks to and from work in London, down Kensington Church Street from Notting Hill - and I suddenly remembered trying to run in Holland Park. I could barely finish the dirt path that looped around the Japanese garden, and I never seemed to get any better. When the song came on last night I felt so enormously proud and happy that I'd finally trained the right way and could run, and that helped propel me up the last hill. I know it was only 4.5 miles, but to a girl who has spent her adult life searching fruitlessly for her athletic side, it was a marathon to me.