Journey almost gets me through the second half mile

            Now that I’m finally feeling good about life, and running, I wanted to keep the party going. For the first time in probably a freaking month, I am progressing and beating this interval. I feel rejuvenated, on top of the world, and thin. Who would have known passing up Shrimp Diablo Fettuccine at Bonefish Grill would make you feel so slim?
            That’s what happened when I tried Bonefish for the first time Tuesday, and I woke up Wednesday feeling rested (for once) and excited. Now, my goal is not only to complete a half mile interval, but the whole freaking thing. That means both half miles, and both quarter miles. Also, I am noticing that my body is taking less time to recover, and I do not need to take the allotted time or distance for walking. I am able to push myself more.
            And push myself I did. I ran my first half mile at a faster pace and finished it without a problem. Turns out, grilled shrimp and scallops with steamed veggies and two (ok, three) glasses of red wine make the perfect running fuel. Who, other than a classy fisherman (or maybe that crazy Alaskan Sarah Palin) would have known? 
            For my last half mile, I thought I needed a special song. Music is very important to me in all aspects of my life, and it is pivotal in my training. Up until this point, I have been sticking with the angrier side of my iPod. Now, I’m trying to find some more encouraging music. When I’m getting ready to start hobbling into my run, I hit the shuffle button, as I am incapable of making almost any decision, especially a music one.
            I pass this song, think about it, then go back. Hmm, this might work. Yeah, let’s get after school special in this bitch.
            The first keyboard chords of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” starts to play, and I smirk at my own goofiness. It’s sad that it’s come to this, but it’s really more positive than Marilyn Manson’s “The Beautiful People.”
            I start out fast. Well, fast for me, meaningI made a deal with myself: I cannot look at my distance until the chorus of “Don’t Stop Believing” rings in my headphones. I start to do the math. Ok, that chorus is probably roughly about two and a half minutes in, over halfway through the song. If I’m running 5.5, no dammit, 5.3, (pant, pant pant, wipe the sweat out of my eyes) fuck, 5.1 m.p.h…. Ah! It’s not going to be as far as I’d like.
            “In the NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHHHT…” Cue the longest guitar solo of my life. Clearly, the movie is not the only thing that never ends and goes on and on and on in this song.
            Finally, the chorus comes and I almost scream “DON’T STOP! BELIEVING!” I slam my finger on the pace button. Damn, only a pathetic three-tenths of a mile. I’m not going to stop believing, but I do believe I need a drink of water. I jump on the sides, take a sip, and pep talk myself into running the rest. It’s a horrific, slow stompfest, but I finished off that interval, all the while pretending I didn’t feel like I was peeing myself.
            Some people have treadmills that they like to stick to at the gym. I have one of these, in the back corner close to the spin room. It is farthest from the door with a minimum of neighbors. Now, I also have a favorite bathroom stall, which is closest to the bathroom door, screw the neighbors. You can see the difference in urgency when you look at the locations of these favorite spots.
            I finish my time with some inclined walking. I have recently discovered this as a fantasic fat burner, and a way to work my running muscles without feeling tired and shamed. Well, the important thing is that I feel I can definitely handle the half mile now, and I am gaining on this interval set. This week, I might have the courage to finally look at the next one. I have to successfully complete this set three consecutive times before I feel comfortable about moving on.