S.M. Carrière . com
Connect:
  • Home
  • About
  • Titles
    • Daughters Of Britain
    • Dear Father
    • Ethan Cadfael: The Battle Prince
    • Human
    • Skylark
    • The Dying God & Other Stories
    • The Seraphimè Saga >
      • The Summer Bird (v.1)
      • The Winter Wolf (v.2)
    • Your Very Own Adventures >
      • Skara Braens
      • Sky Road Walker
  • Art
  • Other Projects
    • Editing Services
    • Charity Efforts >
      • Gàrradh nan Leannan
      • Have a Heart Campaign
    • Journal
    • Martial Arts
    • Silver Stag Entertainment
    • The Adventures of Grimglum the Nord
    • SMC Awkwardly Plays
  • Shop
    • Books
    • Art Prints
  • Contact

Well, I'm Not a Runner... Yet.

16/9/2019

0 Comments

 
Good morning, Readers!
Picture
Sport vector created by freepik - www.freepik.com
I ran my first ever straight 5K race this weekend just gone.  I'm... not happy.

Look, I know, I know.  At least I did it.  I should be proud that I was at the event at all.  Blah, blah, blah.

I'm not, and y'all are just going to have to deal with that.

Why not?  I hear you ask.  Or someone asked.  Maybe I just am hearing things now.​  The point is, I'm not proud of how I ran. 

The usual annoyances happened.  My nose started running almost as soon as I did, resulting in some serious mouth-breathing.  That's normal for me, though, and happens every time I run.  I read up on it, and it might just be that I'm literally allergic to running.  Which is hilarious, and annoying, but not really anything I worry too much about.  That's not the reason I am so angry with myself over this run.

I'm angry because I had to walk a bit.

Granted, I knew that I wasn't any kind of runner.  I've known since primary school.  I'm not fast, or good, at the whole running thing.  I'm not built for it.  I'm built for pulling a plough, or hauling logs long distances.  I'm not a cheetah.  I'm an ox.  Still, having to walk pissed me right off.

More than anything else that could have happened, that was the most aggravating.  I'm furious about it.  It was stupid and unnecessary, and surprising, since my last few practice runs before the race, while weren't the best performance on the planet, did not require any walking.  Why did it on Saturday?  Don't know.  But I had to, and I'm angry about it.  I'd have rather broken my leg, frankly.

You don't understand how sore I am over the whole thing.  Not as in muscular soreness (though, for some reason, my forearms were aching Sunday morning.), but the emotional kind of soreness.

Anyway, I wasn't thrilled on Saturday, and so I slouched home, fuming at myself.  If you happened to be on the bus Saturday evening and saw someone sitting near the front wearing a scowl, that was likely me.  Because I scowled hard, the whole way home.  I'm quite upset with myself, really.

Ordinarily, or rather, previously, that might have been enough to make me give up.  You see, as a chronic overachiever, if I couldn't do something well when I tried, I would give up and go do something else.  Academics came very easily to me.  I barely studied in school.  I thought all things were supposed to be like that, and if they weren't, well, I'd rather not do them than fail.

I consider Saturday night something of a failure. It grates at me in the same way a bad grade would.  But I'm not going to give up.  I'm so, so angry that now I'm motivated.  I won't ever walk during a 5K race again.  And more, my time will be so much better.  I finished Saturday's race under the thirty-five minute mark.  Next race, it'll be thirty-two minutes.  The one after that?  Thirty minutes.

Screw you, failure.  I'm not beat yet.

I'd like to take the time to thank awesome person and gazelle in human form, Evan May.  Evan is not just a good person, a great and patient running partner, but also a kick-arse writer.  I love the way he uses words.  Do check out his stuff ( this  is his site).  Evan ran with me, and was nothing but kind and supportive, even when I was fuming and cranky (sorry, Evan!).  Also, thanks to Kaylee, who came along too.  She's a long-time martial arts student of mine, and I'm really grateful she was there.

I promise that next race, I'll be way better.

Right, I have work to do.  I hope everyone's weekend was wonderful.

Ciao!
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Author

    S.M. Carrière, a Celtic Studies enthusiast, writes fiction.  And this blog.

    Archives

    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014

    Categories

    All
    Book Reviews
    Events
    Gaming
    Human
    Life
    Rants
    Reading
    Seraphimè Saga
    Seraphimè Saga
    Skylark
    Television
    Training
    Travels
    Writing
    YouTube

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly