So remember the Catholic Exchange 5k run I had signed up for?
The hostest with the mostest, Cari, writes about her run here, and explains the kind of weather day we were having up her in New England. It was a dreary weary un-cheery type of day, and I immediately felt compelled towards sloth (the first of many seven deadly sins I had to contend with that day). I wanted to stay in bed and eat waffles and bacon and not exercise at all. And I did just that in the morning. After a big breakfast, Phil went to the gym while I was envious (sin number 2) that he was getting his workout over while I was sipping coffee in my pajamas and researching couches online. To make myself feel better, I decided I would get the run done later, and I would do it super fast so I could take a picture of my time when I was done and send it to Cari (pride).
Once Phil returned home and showered, we went to a furniture store about an hour away and after discovering we couldn't get the sectional we had picked out and researched because I had measured wrong (wrath) we settled on a nice couch and loveseat instead. Meanwhile the kids ran around the store and had to try out all the furniture and make us look like bad parents. To help corral them all, we took them to the area where they had a tv and treats for free, and they stored up on candy and ice cream and cookies and then emerged with a sugar high that obviously turned them into little angels for the whole time we were trying to seal the deal.
On the way home from the store, I realized it was 1:00 and we needed some real food, even though I wasn't that hungry. We pulled through Burger King where I ate a whopper and sweet potato fries and the free ice cream they gave us because the chicken nuggets took so long (gluttony). Then I thought, I'm really going to kill this run to make up for all my bad eating (pride, part deux).
And so two hours after eating (not enough time for Burger King fare to digest, in case you were wondering) I was on the treadmill at the gym ready to do this thang. I set the treadmill to a 7:52 minute mile and started sprinting. About a half mile in, my I've-had-5-kids-body started to wimp out on me and I needed to go to the bathroom. Bad. I made it to .95 of the first mile and had to pause to run off to the bathroom. The old lady next to me gave me that knowing smile. By the time I booked it back to my treadmill, the treadmill had reset itself and my super fast almost mile was erased (wrath again).
I restarted at the same super-fast pace (pride) and took off again until I talked myself into slowing down to a walk at what would be the end of mile 2. As soon as I saw 1.05 (added to the .95 from before made 2) on my distance, I sloooooowed way down to a walk for the next 6/10 of a mile, and then I ran the rest of the time until I got to the 3.1 marker, started walking and tried to take a picture of it for proof and I got this:
By the time I got another picture taken, it was a little over the 3.1 point:
But close enough.
I continued to walk for the rest of the hour thinking about how exercise should be a source of virtues for me (patience, diligence, humility) and that's exactly what God taught me as all of my sinful ways kept messing up my plans for race day. If I had just focused on completing the race I had agreed to run, and been thankful to God that I was healthy enough to do it, and not worried about anything else, I'm sure I would have had a much better race.
|That's BK grease, not sweat. I don't sweat, I glisten.|
Oh well, at least there's another one coming up for me to complete with a lot more grace (and for a really good cause!):
Join me, won't you?
Read about the other runners too!
Read about the other runners too!