The Spirit Is Willing . . .

...but the legs (and lungs and stomach) are weak. I wanted to knock off that 7-mile run tonight. I had been planning for it all day at work. I was really psyched for it. The day had been cooler, even raining a bit, and when I got home, I changed into my running attire and got ready for the road.

The plan was to run to the Grange and back (2.8 miles) and then all the way around the square (an additional 3.8 miles). An additional short run to the edge of the northern neighbor's property and back would put me right at seven. Piece of cake.

. . .

By the time I got just one mile from home, my plan had started to fall apart. My chest felt heavy, my legs were dragging, and sweat was already dripping down my forehead, through my eyebrows, into my eyes. Sweat stings.

I got to the Grange and turned back towards home. I'd already walked some, which is unusual for me at this point in the game. I struggled to run even five minutes at a time without stopping to walk. I began to wonder if I would even make it back home. Walking.

But once I got there and had put in 2.8 miles, I figured I might as well make it an even 3.0, but once I finished that, I was finished period. My clothes were soaked through with sweat, my face was hot, my head was throbbing, and my legs threatened to throw me to the ground.

Now just why couldn't I go more than that? I wanted to, I really did! I had visualized my running the course I'd set for myself and what I had seen was so far from the reality.

There will be better days than today for running. Each day presents a new opportunity to reach a goal, no matter how large or small. Besides, running three miles is better than running no miles.

Right?