Run, Fatgirl, Run

The other day I experienced something I like to call the "fat kid with asthma" phenomenon. The feeling is pretty self explanatory... I woke up at about 3:30 pm after working a night shift and decided I should probably do a short run before going back to the hospital (even though I desperately didn't want to).  I tied my shoes as slow as humanly possible and wandered aimlessly around my house in an attempt to delay the inevitable.  After wasting a good ten minutes, I finally forced myself out the door.

A little ways into the run I could feel my legs rubbing and my lungs burning... I looked down at my trusty Garmin... much to my dismay, I had run less than a mile.  There it was- the "fat kid with asthma" phenomenon.  It had appeared at a rather inopportune time; less than a mile into a 4 mile run.  Once the phenomenon sets in, it is nearly impossible to shake.  I was breathing hard and could feel every single extra pound on my pathetic body.  Miserable.  So there I was... an endurance sport enthusiast, who couldn't even manage a 4 mile run.  I was even forced to do the unthinkable.  I had to WALK. The horror!

So why is it that I can run 14 incredible miles one day, and fail to run 4 the next?  The world may never know.  "Fat kid with asthma" days are completely disheartening.  There have been days (and even weeks) of the phenomenon when I just wanted to give up running entirely.

But then the skies open up and the running gods smile down upon me...

Today I woke up early (disgustingly early- I'm still readjusting from the night shift), ate breakfast, and went out for a morning run.  This run was the antithesis of the '"fat kid with asthma" phenomenon.  Instead, I felt like a super model on the runway at fashion week.  I was rockin' my short-shorts, and I was FLYING.  I ran 8 incredible miles, and even snuck in a 7:48 min/mile split!  


The moral of this story: some days I feel like a fat kid.  Other days I don't.  Sometimes on the worst of runs, my greatest accomplishment is making it out the front door.  A bad run is better than no run.  And that's the truth.