The first lap, I took it slow.
Fifteen minutes in, I began rationalizing that thirty minutes would be a good workout.
Twenty minutes in, I started to worry that allergy medicine was making me too woozy to keep going.
Twenty-five minutes in, I wondered if the dull sensation behind my eyes was going to become a full-blown headache.
Twenty-six minutes in, I realized I didn’t have a headache.
Thirty minutes in, I figured I could make it to forty.
Forty minutes in, I wondered if the pain in my shoulder was a heart attack, then realized that chances were high that my heart rate monitor would have shown some fluctuation if that were the case.
Fifty minutes in, I smiled at someone sitting next to the track, and realized that I was kind of already smiling, and breathing much more easily than usual.
Fifty-two minutes in, I finally managed to pass a few other people on the track, but only because it was a family with some small kids who were doing cartwheels and stopping to peer down at the volleyball game below. I then picked up my pace so I could pass them at least one more time.
I passed them twice more. And a couple of them a third time.
Sixty minutes into today’s run, I realized that I’d gone almost four miles and run for an hour, so it was OK to wind down the workout.