Last night, in my Couch to 5K program, I was supposed to do this:

Week 5, Workout 2

00:00-5:00: Warmup walk
5:00-13:00: Run
13:00-18:00: Walk
18:00-26:00: Run
26:00-30:00: Cooldown Walk

I was very nervous.  I have been doing some 5 minute runs for a couple of weeks now but they were still really hard.  Moving up to 8 minutes at a time was scary.  As I stepped onto the treadmill I made a hasty decision.  The digital timer, with its painfully slow moving red dashes, had become my enemy.  I needed to see how it felt not being focused on the clock, ruled by its unforgiving and steadfast beat, counting myself down, negotiating 30 more seconds at a time.  Following my 5 minute warm up walk, I decided to cover the treadmill clock and not look at it again until I didn’t think I could go on.  I would run and hide from my nemesis.

I listened to Runnerman Dan’s advice and let my mind wander.  My thoughts were liberated and boundless.  The music playing in my ears filled my body.  I found myself singing aloud, unaware of my surroundings.  Time held no meaning when it no longer measured my experience.  Finally, when my legs were threatening to turn on me and my lungs were on fire I removed the clock cover and had run for 19 minutes.  It was a tense negotiation, but I managed to convince myself to go on for one more minute.  We can always do one more, right?  Last night, in my program, I did this:

Week 5, Workout 3

00:00-5:00: Warmup walk
5:00-25:00: Run
25:00-30:00: Cooldown Walk

In my 20 minutes of “Run” I made it a total of 1.75 miles.  In 38 years, 361 days of life I had never run more than one mile.  Ever.  Thankfully I made it to my car before the tears started rolling down my face, I wasn’t about to let my enemy see me cry.   

Halfway to my April 5K goal.  I got this.

What does A Runner think about?  I see them on the side of the road, on treadmills beside me at the gym, on park trails; often alone and in what I can only describe as being in a trance-like state.  I’m on Week 5 of my C25K program, which has admittedly taken me 8 weeks to get to, and I still struggle with how to occupy my brain.  Sure, I have my iPod plugged in serenading me with everything from Lady Gaga to Tenacious D but my thoughts are scattered and in a constant state of mutiny.  They either need more focus or less.  I’ve had friends tell me they do everything from times tables to “silly running” to pass the time.  I see other ladies reading magazines or even novels as they tread along, but I can’t seem to find any focus beyond that darn clock.  This is an example of what goes through my brain:

“Five more minutes and you can walk again, just five more minutes, that’s not very long, you can do five more minutes right?  Look, now it’s only four minutes and 50 seconds, that’s not bad.”

“Okay, let’s make a deal.  You can stop in two minutes.  You can do three tomorrow, today is too hard, twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six, twenty-five…wait, no.  You can do all three.  If you can do two you can do three.  It’s only one more.”

“One more minute.  Come on Jennie, you can do one more.  Just one more.  Look, you’re down to 45 seconds.  Let’s count it down.”

You would think if I have thirty minutes every day I can dedicate to focused thought I would use it for something purposeful like solving world hunger or inventing a nail polish that truly doesn’t chip.  I’m committed to doing this and even though I go in trying not to focus on the time I can’t seem to get past my internal countdown dialogue.

Six and half more hours and I get back on that treadmill.  In seven hours I’ll be done today.  You can do seven hours Jennie.