I’m thinking of changing the name of this blog from “A Long Run” to “A Long Time On The Couch In Front Of The TV.”
Last year I ran three or four half-marathons; a couple of long, mountain trail races, the Peachtree Road Race and a marathon.
I was like:
I ran 1005 miles last year. Really. Seriously.
This year I’m like:
For real. The only things I’ve done this year other than work and grocery shopping are go to church to run sound on Sundays and go to church committee meetings two or three times. Oh, and I took that trip to Selma a couple of weeks ago.
But the thing is, I don’t WANT to do anything. I only want to lie on the couch. Alone. That’s all.
I drive past Centennial Olympic Park on my way to work and I see they’re starting to set up for the Georgia Marathon. The race is Sunday. I think I’ve run it five years in a row. It was my first half. It was my first marathon.
I see the set up happening now for the thousands of runners, and I feel guilty and ashamed that I won’t be running this year. And instead of that making me want to run, it makes me want to curl up on the couch and hide and berate myself for being such a loser.