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.
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