Friday, January 23, 2015

Finish lines.

Always on the run.  That's Annie, alright.

I have come to the conclusion that I need a goal. 

As much as I would like to project a laissez faire attitude when it comes to my outdoor endeavors, I must reluctantly admit that without some sort of finish line on the horizon, I am likely to allow apathy to take hold and slow any progress to a snail's pace.  

Don't get me wrong.  I haven't stopped working out.  To the contrary, I lift weights two to three times a week, and I run at least three times a week. 

But the reps have lessened, the weights have gotten smaller, and the distances have diminished in length.  Another glass of wine often wins over an early bedtime and good night's sleep.  Sleeping in often takes precedence over stepping outside and hitting the trail.   

It probably started--at least mentally--back in 2009, after I completed Heartland.  Running 100 miles had been a goal since I ran my first ultra.  After I slayed that dragon, my motivation began to slip--ever so slightly at first, but eventually gaining enough steam where it was easy to just phone it in.

Sure, I still ran a bunch of races, including several 50+ milers.  But my heart wasn't really in it like it had been previously. 

By 2013, I had stopped recording my mileage.  And I learned that when you stop writing it down, you stop doing it, at least at the same level and with the same consistency.

I didn't run at all during the first week and a half of 2015.  That's the first time I haven't started the new year off by getting outside since probably 2000. 

So I have a new finish line.  I'm going to run 1,000 miles in 2015.  It's fairly modest, but it will get me back out there. 

I'm not putting together a full year's race schedule, but I've got the Cowtown 50km at the beginning of March and the Waco trail run (not sure which distance) in April.  Let's do this.

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