Confession(s)

I live in Arizona. It's hot. Waking up at 5:00 am every.damn.morning to throw myself onto the nasty concrete streets got old.

Confession.

The treadmill has become my friend.

Who am I?

Oh ya know...just driving to go run. Makes sense.

I blame working out at the gym in the mornings, and being on a schedule to meet someone at a specific time...if I wasn't already there, then maybe it wouldn't be so tempting to hop on that treadmill and fall into an easy and comfy pace and the luxury of having a water bottle, Pandora and a bathroom all within reach. The past few weeks have been sprinkled with far less outdoor running (minus San Diego) and way to much indoor running.

I mean having giant commercial fan blowing on my back and plenty of people watching to push my through my runs makes it kind of awesome, right?

Confession.

It makes me feel guilty. Like I'm not a "real" runner. Which is really really stupid. But I miss the streets, the coyote encounters, the hot air balloons just above the desert floor and the fact that I actually run faster outside than inside.

So I took it the streets today. No excuses. No reasons. No expectations. And I was slow. And sweaty as fuck. But I felt 100% times better after 5 mile shitty miles than I do after 5 treadmill miles.

If I want to get fast, I need to run fast. And in order to run fast...I need cooler temps. I need natural hills. And I need the pressure of not looking like a total douche walking and not running from the cars passing by. 

I gave myself permission to use the treadmill on the 2 days I train with Naydine, because it's easy and it makes sense. But once September hits...watch out streets, I'm comin for ya.