Distractions

So Coach is having me work up to six miles. I'm not getting faster, though, and thus no closer to my goal of running with the club. I'm sitting at 11 minute miles, and the running club he operates runs 10 minute miles.

I realized this week what a great deal Coach is providing. I think he feels sorry for me! His normal individual sessions cost $35/hour or so. His fee for me basically works out to $4/hour. I also have a prime 5:30 p.m. slot.

He must like my company, as he does a fair bit of flirting and off-color joke telling.

I think it's innocuous, but I'll say straight up that I have terribly instincts. What if this whole cheap coaching deal is some kinky quid pro quo situation? What if I set some boundaries and I never get to run with the club because I piss him off? I just want to run with the club, people.

So I've decided to push myself a bit more over the next weeks to see if I can get to that magic 10 minute mile mark.

My motivation will be not having to deal with the weird machinations of men. Dudes! Quit it!

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It's amazing how much mental concentration it takes to commit to a fitness routine.

I haven't been weight lifting in three weeks. Three weeks! I got bored. I'm going to try something new by switching my lifting to my lunch hour twice a week at a gym across the street from my office. Coach says all really need to be doing, though, is sit-ups and push-ups. He's a military man, and into minimalism.

I'm in a distracted place right now. There are other things clamoring for my attention. And I'm feeling a bit petulant, honestly, about the time that fitness planning takes.

But I'll get over it. At least I feel positive that these recent distractions aren't a clever way to say I'm quitting. Not at all. They're just distractions. When I think of the next weeks and months I still envision myself running, biking and playing throughout the movie reel that unwinds in my head.

I just need to focus the image some.