Running scared

... or running in pain, depending on how you look at it. I think I have mentioned that I'm running a half-marathon over Labor Day weekend. LS convinced me by saying, "Come on, it's only 13 miles." Only 13 miles she says. Sometimes I dread this decision. But I have already said I would do it, I've paid the registration, and I've never done it before, so why not? Never mind that I've never run more than 5 miles at any one given time in my life... and, did I mention - I hate running. But as I've always said: I can't spend my life avoiding all of the things I hate. Sometimes you have to, as the old Nike tag line used to say, Just Do It.

So we went running last night. For 45 minutes. So a little over 4 miles or so, assuming a 10 minute mile pace, which is just about average for me. Funny thing is, my limiting factor while running is not how bad a shape I'm in - I'm actually fine. My knee sucks. I'll be going along just fine, breathing well, not terribly tired. But my knee will be screaming at me to stop. This happened at about 1.5 to 2 miles. Walk it out a little, begin running again. It's annoying, and totally dependent on the day. If it's a little moist - great for the knee. Too dry, too cold - sucky. Last night, I felt was great running weather. Relatively cool, not too moist, not too dry, good air to breathe. Yet my knee sucked.

But I have to push on. And I'll only quit if the pain is truly unbearable. We have the Pikes Peak 10K in 2 weeks. A little over 6 miles. A little over an hour of running. The goal? Finish with enough energy to have popovers at Normandie Farms after the race. I have to set some sort of carrot in front of me, don't I?