Less

Less time than it takes to get from one corner of Target to the other to take 4 kids to the bathroom and get back again.

Less time than it takes to get out of church and into the car.

Less time than it takes to check Facebook and my email "really fast".

Less time than it takes to go to the bathroom. I mean really go.

Less time than it takes for those "5 more minutes" before I'm ready to go.

Less time than it takes to load 5 kids in the car.

Less time than a trip out to the chickens.

Less time than it takes to walk to the mailbox.

Less.

To say that I had some arguments going on in my head this morning is an understatement.

There were battles.

Full out wars.

Arguments doesn't even cover it.

When the alarm went off at 5:10, I seriously thought about rolling over and going back to sleep.

When I walked to the kitchen to make coffee, I seriously thought about crawling back in bed and going back to sleep.

When I walked back to my bedroom to get dressed, you get the picture...

I sat at the computer drinking my coffee, eating my Zone bar, and looking for inspiration. Thankfully, Tonia, at Racing With Babes, had a little funny on her blog. And, with a little giggle, and knowing she kicks some serious tail, I was inspired. Kind of.

Mile repeats.

I really do love them.

But, I didn't want to.

One whole half mile into my warm-up I was still talking myself into it. Yep. Hard stinkin' core.

3. 2. 1. GO!

Finished up my first mile.

Ready to puke.

Tired.

Are we there yet?

Half mile recovery. Laughing to myself about the word recovery. Picturing nurses there to carry me on a gurney while I recover.

3. 2. 1. GO!

Pushing. Hard.

Breathing. Harder.

3 more laps.

2 more laps.

Almost there.

Done!

Recovery. Telling myself I can do one more. Just one more. Then, we'll talk.

3rd verse. Same as the first. And second.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

One more.

One more.

Mental toughness. Right?

Telling myself it will take less time than all the above statements. Seriously. They all went through my head. Telling myself I can do it. Telling myself it's okay if I puke. Telling myself it's okay if I hurt. It's not supposed to feel good. Truly.

Wondering why in the world I am putting myself through this torture. Yes. Torture is what it felt like. Reminding myself that I WANT to be doing this. Really.

3. 2. 1.

GO!!!

3 more laps.

2 more laps.

Come on, Meredith!!! 1 more lap!!!

Thankful that there was no one else there for that last lap. Almost yelling at myself out loud, "come on!!" "GO!!" "You CAN do it!"

Deep breath. Ready to puke. Done.

Finishing with a mile cool down.

7.5 total miles.

I pushed. Then pushed harder. And it wasn't until I got home and Cory asked me my times that I even dared to look...

1st Mile Repeat - 6:48
2nd Mile Repeat - 7:07
3rd Mile Repeat - 7:13
4th Mile Repeat - 7:06

That is what I call puketastic! In the most positive sense of the word. It was worth the feelings of wanting to puke. It was worth getting out of bed. It was worth yelling at myself out loud, thus looking like a complete lunatic. It was worth it all!

Cory's jaw dropped when I said 6:48. I could hardly believe it myself. But, the best part? When my oldest asked me how my run went this morning, I replied great and asked if he wanted to know how fast I ran my mile. He said no. He said no, because I keep getting faster. I don't think he likes that his mom runs faster than him. When I told him 6:48 I have to say he was a bit impressed. That definitely made it worth it!