Baby Steps.

For some reason, I remember very clearly the day that I was first able to run a 5K straight through.  I had to check the date -- Tuesday, March 5, 2013 -- but I remember the day.  It was a gray, snowy, morning as I stared at that damn treadmill, willing it to reach 3.1 miles before I quit.  

Given how poor my memory is, the fact that I remember it shows that it must have been a significant accomplishment to me.  Which I find interesting now, as somehow, running a 5K has become relatively easy.  Once I get past that first three-quarters of a mile, of course.  That bit is always hard.  In fact, yesterday, in honor of my hometown's annual 10K race, the Bolder Boulder, I ran a 10K (6.2 miles).  By far, that is the farthest I've ever run in one stretch.  And, while I was ready to stop, I didn't NEED to, I was just bored and my calves were starting to hurt.  It was also the fastest I've ever run consistently.  I am still slow and probably always will be as my knees start to protest the pounding when things drop into the 8:00 or less per mile zone (I will do short intervals at higher speeds which is how I know this but never any real distance) but the 10K averaged probably 9:30 or so a mile.  I know when I started running this winter, it was closer to 11:00/mile. 

Progress.  Or, more appropriately, baby steps.