I just pulled myself out of a cold post-run bath (didn't have enough ice to make it an ice bath, but according to Jeff Galloway cold tap water is cold enough) and I am sitting here in my sports bra and a towel because I really wanted to write this post before the rest of my day gets going and I lose my momentum for it. This morning something happened that I had ceased believing was possible. It was so surprising to me that I couldn't help but laugh a little in shock and look around me to see if anyone else was aware of what was going on.
I KILLED my eight mile run today. I left it out there gasping its last breaths of life, wondering who had just stomped all over it. And I feel fan-freaking-tastic. Mentally and physically. My running has been stagnant for weeks and I've been struggling, feeling like the goal I set for myself was insurmountable and I was a fool for starting this thing. But today, things were just grooving. I set a pace and I kept it (without any fancy doodad, which I didn't think was possible for me) and just kept moving. And those moments when I wanted to just stop and maybe cry? They were missing completely. I wasn't fast, but I was persistent, and the negative whispers in my head were silent. Take that, American River Bike Trail. You have no power over me. (And neither does David Bowie. Labrynth anyone?)
In other news, I went to my aquacize class last night, and found it to be just like the picture I posted yesterday. Heads turned as I entered the pool area and walked past a row of older women (and one middle aged man) who were waiting for the ok to get in the pool. To the point where the instructor (no spring chicken herself) looked at me and said sweetly, but confusedly, "Are you here for aquacize?" I replied yes, and she proceeded to ask me several questions meant to verify that I did, in fact, mean to be there. Apparently the rest of the women have been going all summer for the past couple of years, and they all know each other and live in the neighborhoods surrounding the pool.
Refusing to be deterred by the geriatric set, I got in the pool. The instructor of this class does it along with everyone, which is new to me - all the classes I have had before the instructor stayed on the pool deck and, well, instructed from there. She kept a close eye on me and talked me through everything, not with the utmost patience but that's ok. Halfway through the class she asked the man in the class if he was glad not to be the newbie anymore (apparently he started last month) and he enthusiastically said "Oh yes!" and then turned to me and told me I had better not quit. Made me wonder if the teacher keeps a continual close eye on the new person until someone else comes along, thus freeing them. At the end of the class, she seemed genuinely surprised as she said to me "You did really well - I think you've got everything!" Pretty funny. I can tell that I am going to have to put in extra effort to really get a workout, because it is definitely geared towards the slower, more aged people, but I think it could be fun once I get to know some of my classmates - I love old people!
Have a great day everyone - a veggie-egg scramble is calling my name. Maybe I should put some pants on first.