My husband ran in high school, he was a good runner. He competed in different sports in college. He’s a jock.

My oldest son ran through high school and college. He played hockey, quiddich and soccer too. Now he’s into running halfs and full marathons. He’s a jock.

My youngest son ran a little, played hockey, soccer & quiddich and wrestled. He was always keeping busy. He’s a jock.

I ran when I was (much) younger, did some dancing, field hockey and gymnastics but never really was what I would consider a jock. Always doing a million things, just not focused on any sport. Not a jock.

I say this not to put myself down in any way, rather for some perspective.

I try to listen to what husband and eldest espouse on running… well at least the sixth or seventh time it’s spouted. 🙂

Husband always said that running is in your head. You can do basically (I know… there are limits) what you set out to do.

Being a big mind over matter fan, I bought in but never experienced it first hand.

When you run alone, longer distances, it’s a lot in your head.

I. Finally. Got. It.

Training for the Turkey Trot this past Thanksgiving, I found that it really didn’t matter how far I was running 3, 4, 5, 6 miles. It all seemed to end the same way. Maybe the 6 miles had me a little sorer the next day but not at the end of the run. If I expected to run 3 miles, I ran 3 miles, thankful at the end. If the day brought 6 miles, I bucked up and ran the 6, thankful at the end.

It was a little weird and disconcerting when I realized that (within reason) it really is all in your head. Brother, they’re right again…

Who knew? OK I know who knew, don’t tell!