My running coach wanted me to do thirteen miles. Uuugh. Thirteen miles? Isn't that unlucky or something? Do people that have a fear of the number thirteen even run half marathons? It's called triskaidekaphobia by the way-the fear of the number 13, not the fear of running half marathons. Or is it the .1 that makes it ok for them? Is it a coincidence that buildings don't have a thirteenth floor? I wondered if I should run with a four leafed clover in my pocket or a rabbits foot around my neck.
Here's the real problem. I'm not afraid of thirteen. I love baker's dozens (can we say carbs?). What a great idea. The problem was that I wasn't in the mood to run. This has been happening a lot lately. I mentally whine for exactly four miles when I run these days. I panic the next two. I think about turning around at every other footstep. I'm really not enjoying my running right now. If I could, I'd put away my running shoes (novel idea-to actually put my shoes away-ever) and not run until I felt like running rather than when I should be running. Call it burn out. Call it the distraction of something shiny. (what? where?) Call it lack of dedication. I don't care what you call it, I sucked it up and ran my thirteen miles today even though I didn't mentally want to. Actually I did 13.1. Because I can. Even if I don't want to.
Now I think I can get the official sticker magnet thingy and outfit out my car-running style. I won't mention that for years when I saw stickers on cars that were 13.1 or 26.2 I thought it was some kind of Bible verse reference. I just couldn't figured out what chapter they were referring to!