Saturday, September 5, 2009
A bad run can put me in such a sour mood. My 2 mile race this morning netted me a time 45 seconds slower than I had hoped. Granted, there was a killer hill the last 1/4 mile. But I have been berating myself all day about not trying harder and getting up that hill faster. I so desperately wanted to keep up with Rachel, but once we got to that hill, she just blew me out of the water. My legs were burning. The kind of feeling where your quads might actually explode through your skin. Of course, now that I am several hours removed from it, I am thinking that I could have done a better job. I think that I could have pushed myself harder and not given in to the pain. I know that I need to let it go and to learn from the experience, but I'm such a perfectionist that I just want every race to go exactly as I plan it out in my head. Now, I have two weeks until my next race (a 5K in Madison) and I know that I am going to stew over how to improve and make it the 'perfect' race.