Going the distance (Week 2)

Well it finally happened.
I was hoping that it would be a lot further down the road, but I finally missed a scheduled run.
And it was a big one.
Perhaps it was even the most important run of the week.
On Sunday I was supposed do another 8-mile run. It was to be just like the one from last week that I finally conquered. I was even kind of excited for this workout, even though last week's run really took a lot out of me physically. All week I was ready. I couldn't wait to get back on the road and beat last week's time.
Unfortunately, I didn't beat last week's time. I didn't even get out to do the run.
I spent most of the weekend tracking down coaches by phone and writing stories for the fall previews. Almost all of Saturday was spent on the phone. But I still managed to get my four-mile run in.
But Sunday was another story. I was busy all week, as almost all sports reporters who cover fall sports are. It's a big time for us. If you have ever worked retail, just consider this time of year to be to sports writers what the Christmas season is to you.
There's just too much to do and not enough time to do it.
It was about 4 p.m. on Sunday when I realized there was no way I was going to get that run in. And it felt horrible because I could have run in the morning, but chose to procrastinate and put it off. I told myself, and my fiance Amanda, that I would run in the afternoon, after we got home from a friend's house.
As I walked out our front door to go to our friend's, the last thing I saw when I left were my running shoes, untouched for the day. They stared at me with the kind of contempt you get from a friend you keep postponing plans with. It was kind of like they sighed and said, " Go, have fun. We'll still be here when you get back."
But, one thing led to another, we didn't end up getting home until about 8 p.m. And I still had to go into Pontiac to do some designing this week's print edition.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not making excuses.
It was my own fault and I should have managed my time better. I managed to get in every other workout this week.
For the first time, though, I'm beginning to realize that the toughest part of the training might not have anything to do with the actual running.
This journey toward running and finishing the Detroit Half Marathon is now, and is going to continue to be, a huge, drawn-out juggling act for me.
I'll try to explain.
After our son Teigan was born in June, things for Amanda and I changed, as I'm sure they do with most new parents. The change was all-encompassing and it happened almost overnight.
Our time all of a sudden became a lot more valuable to us. And our schedules basically got split into two groups. Those groups were, to put it quite simply, time we get to spend with Teigan, and then time we spent doing everything else. We'd both prefer that all of our time went into the first category, but that's just not doable.
Working keeps a roof over our heads, so that's a must.
And on the weekends (after the work from home is done) it's really tough to have to make a choice between hanging out with the loves of my life, or going for a run.
But that is what doing this training is going to mean sometimes.
I understand that now.
When we got home from our day out, before I packed my things and headed off to Pontiac for what I was sure was going to be a long night, I saw my shoes again, still untouched for the day. They were no longer a contemptuous friend, but rather a jilted lover. I know it sounds stupid, but if a pair of shoes can look disappointed in you, that's what I saw.
So, as my journey continues, I'm making promise to myself to never have my footwear look at me like that again.