Preparation

I thought spring was here for good. Nope. Wrong. All our grass appeared over the weekend and then it snowed making our roof, deck, yard, driveway, and work parking lot covered in a heavy snow mess. Oh the nerve. And since I'm not a fan of running in the cold or on icy streets, I headed back to the treadmill. I am just longing to run in 80 degree weather with the sun blasting it's hot rays down on me (side note: I always wear sunscreen now when outside in the summertime. My wonderful sister-in-law is a dermatologist and supplies us with never ending amounts of sunscreen. I even have one bottle that is 85 SPF. It took her a while to convince me that being pale was better than having a nice summer glow, but I know in 30 years I will appreciate her perseverance with me.).

Last night, I went to the gym at 8 PM. I had just put my son down for the night, sat down to catch up on all things important on my iPhone (Facebook and Iowa Girl Eats), and nearly fell asleep for the night. Get up and get to the gym. Do it. Yawn. Just get up and go change. Yawwwwn. One, two, three... okay, I'm up. I put on my tempos and that red shirt that I'm apparently addicted to running in lately. For me, getting dressed for the gym is quite possibly the hardest part of the workout. Just getting the motivation to take the first step is the hardest. But once I'm dressed I'm good to go.

I started my run out at a nice 5.5 mph. I can tell my lungs and legs are getting in better shape because bumping the speed up to 6.0 doesn't feel taxing anymore. I love feeling like I'm improving. Before I knew it, I was at one mile. Then two. I started to get bored and honestly, I was pretty tired after four of the five days of work this week. I started speeding up. I made it all the way to 8.5 mph. At first I thought I couldn't control my legs, but all was okay.

When my lungs started to burn, and it didn't take that long, I had a realization: the soccer season starts in just over a month. I have to be able to run as fast as I possibly can for an entire game in about 6 weeks. Four years ago, I joined a women's soccer team. I joined with my friend who also ran the half-marathon. At the time, the team consisted of women just out of high school, women the same age as my mom, and all of us in between. I hadn't even touched a soccer ball since the last game I played my senior year of high school, so starting to play in my mid-20's was a little difficult. I forgot how fast-paced soccer was and how much sprinting was involved. I played for two summers, took one off because I was very pregnant, took last summer off because, well, I just couldn't get it together with nursing, working, mothering... yeah, you read that post... but this summer I will make my return.

My position of choice is right defender. I played defense in high school and never thought of myself as anything else. The second summer playing soccer, I had the chance to try playing mid-field and forward. Now those positions are exciting! I finally scored my first goal and had a celebratory DQ treat afterwards with my biggest fan, my husband. Two of my favorite things about soccer: speed and aggressive play. I prefer sprints over distance and I love running down an opponent. I love having green grass and mud smashed into my shin guards and scrapes on my knees at the end of the game. (To my future opponents: Please don't throw elbows until after Memorial Day weekend... I can't get bruises before my matron of honor duties are over. My sister will thank you. Thanks!) I haven't played in two years and I'm a little nervous about my ability to compete. Let's just make one thing clear... we're considered recreational, but we're serious competitors! Do not mess with "Club America." I want to do well. I want to be able to run down those opponents on game one and finish the game without puking behind the goal post.

I ran at 8.5 for a couple of 45 second stretches. On my second stretch, suddenly my legs stopped moving, but I thought I was still running. Um, what's going on? Am I passing out right now? Am I about to be that girl who falls flat on her face because she had the treadmill going faster than she could handle? Oh dear, I don't want a treadmill burn on my face! Then I looked down. I had accidentally pulled the emergency stop cord, which leads me to believe that I must've looked like a complete idiot with flailing arms right before pulling the cord. I had NO idea that the cord came out. After a good laugh, I restarted the machine and did two more 45 second sprints.

I finished up completely dripping in sweat. Awesome run. I am convinced that with a few more sprint training runs, I will be right on my way to scoring my second goal this summer. Bring on the DQ lemon lime arctic rush!