A lot of my friends know that I have joined dating sites. Anyone that has done online dating knows there are a lot (and I mean a lot) of interesting people out there. Well, one fine day in October, I decided it was time for me to join. I go through stages where I think it’s the only way I’ll meet someone because I never go out. Plus, I made a pretty hefty goal of going on two dates in 2016. So far, I had been on one. I started talking to a guy, seemed normal. We chatted frequently, and then came the question. “Do you want to meet up and get to know one another?” I’m not going to lie, that’s usually where I draw the line. I don’t know why, but usually I cut off all communication the second they actually want to meet up. I have issues, I know.
This time I said sure. What did I want to do, he asked. Heck if I know, you’re the man, you pick .So he picked a brewery. That’s cool. I don’t really drink, but I’m game for trying something out of my norm. The day of our date came and I was silently freaking out. Dates mean I have to actually dress nice, do my hair, and wear a normal bra (as a personal trainer, sports bras are life). So I got all cute, researched beers and headed on out.
When we first met, I knew. I knew we weren’t going to be a good match. But at that point, what can you do? I had promised myself I would at least try, so I sat down. I ordered a beer (to which I ended up hating, but drank it anyway.) I forgot to mention the part where I had been so nervous all day, I had barely ate. I knew this was a stupid mistake, especially because I had a 10 mile race the next day. And not to mention I was drinking on an empty stomach. About half way through the beer, it started to hit me. I thought about not drinking anymore, but then I felt bad. This poor guy, who I knew I didn’t like, bought me a beer. I had to at least try to finish it (stupid). So I chugged on. After 2 someone painful hours, we parted ways. The second I got home I pigged out. I ate all the food. I had too, or else tomorrow morning would suck. I had a feeling it was already going to suck because my head slightly hurt from that 1 beer. This is what happens when you never drink. I set my alarm clock for an ungodly hour, and tried my hardest to doze off. Fail. I don’t think I barely slept 3 hours and that blasted alarm went off.
But I knew I had a goal to meet, and regardless of my pathetic dating life and regardless of my headache, I had to crush today. The weather was kind of crappy, spitting and raining and I couldn’t figure out what to wear. Spoiler alert; I def over dressed. I realized this at mile 1, but I wasn’t about to toss my favorite jacket.
I’m not used to pushing myself, so this whole race was uncomfortable. I had to battle my constant negative thoughts of how many more miles I had to maintain this pace. I was worried I would burn and crash. Around mile 5, I met a really nice lady. We kept “hunting” people down. We would pick out a victim and try to pass them. It made the time go by much quicker, and was fun. She doesn’t know it, but she was my rock that day. We pushed each other each mile. Without her, I would have walked. I ended up killing my goal time and came in at 1:24:26. I maintained an average pace of 8:27 and even won a medal for 2nd in my age division!!
So even though my date didn’t go as well as I had dreamed it would, my race did. And I realized that even though I still didn’t have a boyfriend/fiance/husband my life was just fine. In fact, it’s perfect.