Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I have committed a henious crime and I’m ready to pay the price—or perhaps I’m hoping I won’t have to if my dear guardian angel has pity over me.
You see, when no one was looking, I cheated thrice…yes, three times!
Based on my Return to Running Schedule, which I promised to abide by at all cost, I was supposed to only “Walk for 20-40 minutes” five days this week. This is what I did instead:
Monday: Walked 30 mins. – CHECK
Tuesday: Rest (Actually, I was busy with work and the kids)
Wednesday: Walked 35 mins. – CHECK
Thursday: Swimming 2 hours in chilly water, Defrosting 22 hours
Friday: Walk 20 mins., Run 10 mins. – Jumped to Week 3! CHEATED!
Saturday: Rest (Busy, busy with work)
Sunday: Walk 20 mins, Run 15 mins. – Jumped to Week 4! CHEATED!
Monday: Walk 20 mins, Run 15 mins. – Jumped to Week 4! CHEATED!
Am I hurting myself for being impatient and stubborn? Perhaps. Am I happy about running again (albeit at a much slower pace) without feeling any pain and finally breaking a sweat after over a month of extreme bloatedness? Definitely. You couldn’t wipe the smile of my face over the weekend. Sure I missed the Pasig Marathon, but I was reunited with my beloved running so nothing could pull me down.
In fact, I was so elated with the my little triumphs last week that I completely abandoned the gym, yogilates, and the drills my therapist taught me. I know I should be doing all of these to prevent the injuries from recurring, but I guess I was just too excited to hop on the treadmill once again. See, I told you I was bad and I wasn’t exaggerating!
For now, I expect to continue with Week 4 (even when I should technically be on Week 2) and incorporate weights, drills, and swimming back in the sched. While you may be screaming “The woman has no shame nor remorse!”, I am turning a deaf ear and praying that I am doing what I feel is right for my body. Yes, I have cheated and I know I am hurting no one else but myself. And, should my injury rear its ugly head again, I have no one else to blame but my husband—er I mean, myself.
Forgive this bull-headed runner for being just too happy to run again.