12 miles of pure hell...

Some days running just full-on sucks. This week’s Saturday long run was just that. Horrible.

I’d go even as far to say one of the worst training runs I’ve ever experienced. And easily the worst group run I’ve ever had. 

But on a positive note: I finished. And a times, just finishing is all that matters. 

As a runner, I’ve learned how to read my body pretty well. I know when I haven’t eaten the right pre-run meals (as was this case) and when I missed taking mid-run fuel (also the case). I know when I have had too much fluid and not enough. I know when my body is tired and when it wants to give up.

But thankfully, my mind, on most days, tends to be a bit stronger then my body---and its ability to push me forward sometimes surprises even me. 

This week was the longest run I’ve had to date: 12 miles. It seems fitting that I’d struggle through it. I feel like there is always one bad run each training cycle. And I’ll admit, I haven’t taken this cycle as seriously as I should have. I skipped two long runs the past two weeks and didn’t stick quite to the training plan. 

To be honest, I’ve sort of phoned it in. 

And my body knew. It knew I wasn’t ready for 12 miles. It knew I was trying to trick it into doing something it wasn’t prepared for. It reminded me of the first Oakland Half Marathon I ran back in 2013. I had only trained up to about 8 miles---and as soon as I hit that 8 mile mark in the race, my body signaled, “Hot Dog, we’re done.” 

And unfortunately, I still had another 5 miles to go.  

Each event, each training cycle should probably teach me a little something more. In this case, it reminded me that I have to put the work in. And if I don’t, I’m not tricking anyone---especially not myself. 

Coming off a bad run can also be a bit of an ego bruiser. Or a fear inducer. I definitely had some anxiety coming off of that run. So much so that I had a whopper of a marathon dream. My first since getting into NYC. 

Picture with me, heading out to the NYC marathon course----I realize I have no fuel: no running gu, no chews, no water. Nothing. And I freak out. I head to a running store at the start line (FYI: there isn’t one) and it’s filled with panicked runners like myself. In the middle of the crowd are two elites: Amy Cragg and Shalane Flanagan. In real-life, these two are training partners and during the 2016 Olympic Trials, they carried each other (literally) through to the finish line.  Everyone in the midst of training wants to find the Shalane to their Amy (or vice versa). Their friendship is the epitome of #squadgoals 

Anyways, they seemed to notice my pre-race terror and end up by my side. A load of other runner fears happened (stomach issues, not the right shoes, can’t find the start line), but they never left my side. We didn’t start running until the late afternoon and I remember being in a panic because they are so fast. And I am not. 

But they paced me the entire time. 

It was an odd dream---but oddly fitting after the crap run earlier in the week. One of the best things about the running community is that sense of commodity. The sisterhood I’ve gotten from some of my running friends is one of the reasons why I haven’t quit. If you’re looking for a group of supportive, endorphin filled women, head out on a Saturday morning and get to know your local running group. They really do got your back.  

Training to Train

Here's what I've come to realize. The NYC Marathon is still just about 250 days away.

And yet, here I am, already looking at training plans, setting up running dates, upping my strength training, trying to add in yoga and tweaking a diet.

I'm basically training for training.

As absurd as it sounds (and feels) I'm slowly getting my body in better shape so that when it's time for the long miles, my poor self won't be so, shall we say, shell-shocked.

For anyone that knows me, knows that I've been fairly consistent on keeping an active training schedule, but it is not easy. This past year I found myself in a life slump. I still ran somewhat regularly, but I wasn't into it. I haven't run a half marathon in almost a year, nor have I really stepped up to a starting line of any kind in a long time. I took most of the summer off as I was overseas, and never really recovered. I'm not out of shape, but I'm not in it either. I slowly found myself feeling out of tune, sluggish and unmotivated. Stressed in other areas of my life, I didn't take the time to focus on my body.

And when you're physically out of tune, it affects all parts of your being (or at least it does for me).

All this to say, there's work to be done.

I will admit, my brain is really good at convincing me to do other things, but I took inspiration from Des Linden this week:

Keep. Showing. Up.

This may just be my mantra for March.