Training for half marathon tough for procrastinators

Procrastinators shouldn’t sign up to run full marathons. Which is why I opted for 13.1 miles instead. But lately, even convincing myself to do half the work has been difficult.

According to my weekly schedule, I should have run a total of 21 miles this week. I have run zero. But let me explain.

I’m lazy when it comes to this whole running thing. Really lazy.

I could try to mask the sloth-y stench by telling you I’ve been busy with more important things. Like writing a thesis. Or applying for jobs. Or having anxiety attacks about writing my thesis and getting a job. But really only the anxiety is true.

It’s not like I haven’t made attempts to get myself out the door. I’ve set goals. Blocked off specific times. But Monday, my iPod was dead. Tuesday, my favorite Wilco song wouldn’t connect to my iPod. Wednesday was my day off. And Thursday was the new “30 Rock” episode.

Friday is always the day I block off for anxiety attacks.

According to my research, one “expert” source said it’s important to dress the part. And after spending $200 on new running shoes and a super-sleek, lime-green thermal jacket, I could totally be in one of those Nike print ads. But can I run more than a mile? Yes, but not without heavy panting.

Really, I should be used to this whole running long distance thing. I ran my first 25K last May and finished limbs still intact, no stretcher needed. Not that I’m bragging. How did I do it? I kept a schedule and stuck to it. Heck, I even did stretches.

But this year, I’ve become jaded. I figure that I’ll pull things together a week or two before, run 10 miles a day or so to make up for lost time. That is, if you consider time spent reading Mindy Kaling’s autobiography or creating a budget for my imaginary igloo house lost.

As any true procrastinator knows, however, that isn’t how it works. It’s kind of like writing a paper. Sure, the mode of being under pressure forces you to get it done. In that time, however, quality, thought and skill is sacrificed. And while in a paper, the procrastination scent merely seeps through some poor prose, on the pavement it’s displayed through that parched paralysis five minutes in.

Watching my fellow runners these past few months, I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions. What’s their secret? How do they stand as a part of that elite group that can not only put their gym shoes on but run a half marathon with them too? Wasn’t I one of them at one point in my life? Will I ever be one of them again? How does one halt this procrastination permeation?

Maybe it’s finding a running buddy. Or possibly physically restraining oneself to a treadmill. Or maybe, just like running the race itself, getting into the routine just takes practice.

Does it take a $150 pair of new running shoes, however? Well, they do look nice.

_Rebecca is a senior in LAS._