grumpy running. now with more swearing!


Saturday night I went to bed all grumpy because I knew that even though Sunday was my sleep in day, I would eventually have to get up and run 6 miles. And I was not excited about running 6 miles.

I feel really apathetic this time around. The good thing about training for a second half marathon is that my body has done this before, and I know it can do it again. I know that it will be hard, but I can do it. I know that race day will fill me with adrenaline, and I’ll finish wanting to do it again. Like, not the next day or anything. But again.

I also know I’ll get burned out as race day nears. I know that I’ll have good runs. I know I’ll have bad runs. I know I might very well get THE runs. So instead of telling myself that I’ve done it once and I can do it again, I’m saying, “I’ve done this once. So why the hell am I doing it again?”

Was I a one and done runner?

So I asked Christian, “Was I this apathetic last time I trained?”

And he said, “Yes. Yes you were.”

I’m not sure what the difference is this time around. Well, one of the differences is that I am out of shape and a few pounds heavier. And I’m not in the shape I was 2 years ago. I started training for 2013’s Zooma right off of my training for the Tough Mudder event I completed in October 2012.

My schedule is different this time. Where I thought I would have a lot more time to run and “do things” once I had all 3 kids in school at least a few days a week, that is just not the case. But I may have to consider making time for a run if I want to save my early morning sanity.

Today my back was hurting a little, so I rolled it out, ate a banana, drank my coffee, and headed out for my 6 miler. If runs had theme songs (and most of mine do), this one be a mashup of “Against the Wind” and “Running on Empty.” It was a glorious 65 degree day here in Austin, but I just didn’t have it. At 3.5, after a couple of walking bouts, I texted Christian something along the lines of “Motherfucker. I can’t do this.”  Okay, that was exactly what I texted him. About a mile later, it was “Fuck this shit.”

Bad runs make me swearsy.

I could barely pass up the elderly lady who was jaunty-walking down the street ahead of me. When I turned around and we passed each other again, she couldn’t even look me in the eye, she was so embarrassed for me.

I’m not used to crying on runs until I at least get to the 10 or 11 milers, but damn if I wasn’t close this time. I wanted to just stop and walk the rest of the way home. But I was kinda far away from home, and that would take a really long time. And I am impatient.

And I thought of my friend Lisa, who is running the Austin Marathon next weekend. I know her training has been hard. She’s had some good runs. She’s had some bad runs. She’s been emotional and weepy on some (IT HAPPENS). But I’m just so damn proud of her. I can honestly say I will never ever EVER want to run a marathon. But she’s going to DO it. Such a badass.

And I thought of the people who came out of the woodwork the last time I blogged though half marathon training to tell me that I inspired them to get out and run or walk or do SOMETHING. Because sometimes when you’re a blogger, you know you’re putting your words out there, but it doesn’t always occur to you that someone is reading them, much less getting all inspired and stuff.

And I thought of my girls and how it’s been hard for us to find a regular activity they enjoy sticking with. Rachel’s been grumpy about going to Tae Kwon Do, and Claire’s fighting some self confidence issues in ballet (we’re not even going to talk about soccer). I want them to enjoy what they’re doing, but I also want them to see the commitment and the process of setting a goal and working towards it, even when it’s not all fun and games.

Because at this point, I’m not running because I want to. I’m waiting for that to kick in, that feeling that if I don’t run I’ll be eternally grumpy until Christian hands me my shoes and practically shoves me out the door. That’s what I miss.

Right now I’m running because I have a goal, and I’m going to meet it. Unless my back gives out again, and well….I’d be a liar if I said that a small part of me wouldn’t be just a little relieved if it did.


If you don’t hate running, consider signing up for the ZOOMA Texas half marathon, 10k, or 5k! It’s a fun race, I promise. And you can save 10% by using the code LEIGHANN15.


Join the Conversation


  1. Thanks for writing about the dirty side of us reluctant runners! Makes me feel so much better about my new relationship with my arthritis in my knee! 🙂

  2. I’m so sorry it was a bad run and maybe even a bad training cycle 🙁 You’ll find the good in it again, even if it’s not until the day after race day 🙂

  3. I’ve run five full-marathons. I’ve run a bunch of shorter distances. I can’t tell you how many training runs I’ve taken.

    During each and every one? My brain has said “fuck this shit”.





    Usually, it’s right at the start . . . well, no – usually, there is a little excitement at the start. But before mile 1, I’m done. Why the fuck am I doing this? It’s not like I’m going to ever win a race.

    But I’m stubborn, so I keep going.

    And, getting into my music or audiobook, I stop actively hating myself as I run. I can’t say that I ever really enjoy it. I don’t — but I do enjoy listening to whatever I’m listening to. And I do enjoy being “more fit”, so that, somehow, makes it worth it.

    But, if I had a theme for my thoughts during a run? Fuck this shit. I want a doughnut.

  4. I love the fact that your are honest about your “swearsy” moments. These are a real part of life and I tend to have them while just walking!
    You outlook is honest and touching.

  5. I wonder if it is easier to be more apathetic after you’ve got one half marathon (or, insert whatever distance race here) under your belt. Because you know your body can DO it, you feel less pressure to prepare your body to do it. I know that’s the case with me.

    I’m looking forward to being able to and having some free time to run again, but I know that’s just because I’m anxious to use my no longer pregnant body again and make it feel more like me once more. But I know as soon as I start I’m going to hate it.

  6. I know this. All too well. You’re doing it though and that is what counts. Even if you are getting a bit “swearsy.” Totally understandable!

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