Saturday’s long run didn’t go so well for me. The goal was to run 20 miles. I had hoped to keep pace with A for the first
16 miles before slowing for the last 4.
It seemed doable since we’ve run 14 miles together not too long ago, and
we finished under our target pace.
Sadly, I started to break down at the start of mile 11 and
once I wasn’t feeling good, it was a precipitous fall. Little maladies now became serious infirmities. My jaw hurt because of a minor bout of TMJ,
and while it doesn’t affect my running at all, it was reason enough to stop. My legs felt weak and I blamed the fast
6-miler we did just 2 days before, which I now was convinced was a bad decision. And I managed to diagnose myself as anemic. I kept trying to focus on each step and quiet
the negativity, but ultimately I did not succeed.
I was struggling. A tried his best to be encouraging, but the
fact that he didn’t seem to be having any problems at all only compounded my
frustration. I finally told him to run
ahead. I had decided to dissect a loop
and cut my run short. I told A I would
wait for him back at the car.
I have no idea how slowly I was going once we separated, but
I did have sporadic boosts of energy at moments along the run. When I finally reached the car, after stretching
for a few minutes I realized I actually felt well enough to continue running. But I wasn’t sure if I should since A was
still on the road and expecting to see me when he finished. Since I had the key, I couldn’t just up and
leave him tired and waterless at his finish.
So I waited, deflated at my subpar performance.
I had about twenty minutes to ponder what went wrong. It all seemed to boil down to me not being
mentally tough. After A came in (20
miles done all at his target pace), I was in a complete state of self-loathing. A suggested I run to our neighborhood Trader
Joe’s since I told him I might have a few more miles in me, so I did. My legs weren’t as spry as I had hoped and
the soles of my shoes felt paper thin, but I was glad to get that little bit in
just to know that I could. And we got our
weekly grocery shop done a day early.
After mapping my total mileage back home, I did 16 miles and
then tacked on another 1.75 after about a thirty minute rest.
A friend of ours thought I might be overtraining. I think really I’m just over training. I’m over the long runs. I’m over the austerity of watching my food intake,
forcing down water, running during my lunch hour, avoiding wine on a Friday
night. I’m bummed we’ve stopped playing
paddle tennis because the risk of injury is too high. I’m bummed I don’t have as much time to swim. I'm bummed that I'm gaining weight. I’m really bummed we can’t go to Maui with
friends the week before the marathon. I’m
frustrated at all the things I’ve had to give up these many months, and if I don’t
make my time goal, I’ll have to ask myself if it was worth it.
Since I was unable to complete the long run, I now feel I’m
at a deficit in our training. I am
trying to figure out if running a solo 20-miler on our off week would help or
hinder me. On the one hand,
accomplishing it would give me confidence, but on the other, I’d run the risk
of overtraining as my friend already suggested I might be doing. I’ve decided to see how I feel towards the
end of the week before I make up my mind.
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