Soooo many emotions this morning.
I mean, a 15-minute mile was supposed to be a goal to work toward. Something I might reach in a month. Or two.
I don't think anyone expected me to break a 15-minute mile already today, only 12 days into this whole new eating/exercise thing. I don't think my Trainer did. I know I didn't.
Yet we clocked one this morning...and it was Mile #4 at that. It wasn't pretty. There was huffing and puffing, and some grunting and growling, and a lot of talking to myself. And as soon as I crossed the mile marker, I could barely stumble 4 more steps to lean on the fence by the trail, where I stood gasping for breath and, yes, crying a bit.
Crying because I couldn't believe I'd done it. Crying because my legs and back hurt from the extra effort. Crying because I could barely breathe. Crying because I wouldn't have known to push myself without my Trainer giving me a countdown. Crying because, for the first time, I realized just how tough this is going to be with him gone. Crying because, by golly, I frakkin' DID IT!