So, I’ve written about my Inner Lizard, the shrieking beastie who lives inside each of us and needles us whenever we stretch ourselves. The one who says: that’ll never fit, you can’t accomplish that, go back to the couch. Mine isn’t the voice of anyone but her, that Negative Nancy Naysayer who lurks within and dines on failures.
5 weeks ago, I couldn’t run 60 seconds. Last night, I ran 900 (15 minutes).
Here’s how the conversation went when the beastie showed herself yet again:
Me: I think I can really do this, it’s not that bad.
Her: Are you kidding me? You’re a rookie and the couch is calling …
Me: Man, that first run is always the toughest, my feet feel like lead.
Her: Yeah, you said that last time.
Me: Wow! 11 min down already!
Her: 19 to go, you’ll never make it.
Me: Who knew that running slow is harder than running fast?
Her: Running is hard period, are you sure you wouldn’t rather be on the couch?
Me: Wow! 22 min down!
Her: Can you hear your breathing? You sound like a sick cow!
Me: That last segment was tough, my legs are sure burning now.
Her: They’re burning ‘cause they’re about to give out.
Me: The sweat is pouring off me; I feel like I can do anything!
Her: You know you want to quit.
Me: Hey! 26 min down, time for my cool-down – HOOAH!
Her: …. silence ….
What does your “Inner Beastie” like to dine on?