And Then There Were Miles
Yes, there was radio silence in blog-land. I have barely been near a laptop in the last two weeks, never mind sat down for long enough to write something about running. I also made the big decision that going running was a better idea that writing about running. Shocking, I know. Normally I’ll do anything to get out of running.
The last couple of weeks I’ve focused on getting my head down and doing the damn runs. There’s been some good miles, there’s been some ugly miles, but most importantly, there’s been miles. I’m not going to be logging weekly mileage records, but I’m comfortable that I’m starting to make progress after a series of low-commitment weeks.
So, which run shall I talk about? The Yasso 800s where I managed to run all 8 of my 800s and negative split the last 800? That felt pretty good. The 800s were definitely not pretty. And Yassos 6 and 7 left a lot to be desired at 4:05 each. But I’ll take intervals 1, 2, and 8 at 3:39, 3:45, and 3:41 instead. Ori came along for that run and acted as a sort of far-away rabbit. He also made it look very easy, which it wasn’t and I was cursing Burt Yasso after the second 800. The 5 mile tempo I sorta dominated at 8:08 pace, after not being able to hold an 8:00 pace for 4 miles? Love that. And just as good, my last night 4m tempo run was held at a sweet 7:54, with almost completely even splits. When does that happen?! I even made it through an 18 mile run in one piece, after making a failed attempt the week before. Not just any 18 mile run – a run with bridges and almost entirely in the rain. Yup. All sorts of running accomplishments and runs that made me feel, well, if not strong, then at least in control of my training.
Of course, it’s not all rainbows and butterflies and puppy dogs. There would be lies of omission if I failed to mention that I bailed on a lousy 0.25 sprint after a massive, epic, close-to-death fail of a ladders speedwork, which was filled with all kinds of positive splitting. Or that I mostly cried my way through the last 5 miles of a 16 mile run (supposed to be 18) because it was so damn hot and I was miserable. When I wasn’t crying, I was cursing, or stopping, or panting. And I also looked like I had taken a shower with all my clothes on. I did not, however, resort to sports bra running. Never. Going. To. Happen. That I’m only getting 3 of my scheduled 4 runs in a week? Yes, it’s all true.
There are ten weeks until the NYC Marathon. I’m not at all sure how confident I feel about running it. Mostly, I don’t feel like I’ve run enough long or hilly miles to be comfortable running 26.2. So much of running is in the head, and my head isn’t there yet, and my quitter voice is still strong. The next ten weeks are going to be about getting and staying strong so I can be confident on race day.
But before that, I’ve got a week of camping, hiking, lobster, and cheese to work through while on a week’s vacation to Maine and Vermont. It cannot come fast enough.