I ran my first 20 miler of my Twin Cities training yesterday. It went … OK. The good: I ran with some awesome friends, I ran a negative split, and we ran a hilly course, which is always good. The bad: I am slow as fuck anymore. I had to stop and almost puke at the top of a hill. Did I mention I’m slow?
I mean, I wouldn’t mind almost throwing up on a run if my pace warranted it. But you know, humping up a hill at a 9:30 pace doesn’t really seem puke-worthy. Ugh.
But, it was the longest run I’ve done since August 2009. That time, my 20-miler capped off a 70-mile week. And also was the beginning of months off due to stress fractures in both pubic ramus (rami?). It was horrible and frustrating, especially since I was in truly the best shape of my life. This time? My 20-miler meant I was at 35 for the week, after having taken two days off for pubic ramus pain (and today, a third day off). I’m slower, and crabbier. I haven’t gone over 40 miles a week yet this training cycle. I keep trying to tell myself that this is fine, be conservative, go have a good time in Twin Cities. Nobody, nobody cares how I do.
But me. I care.
I don’t want to look stupid out there. I don’t want to watch all my friends blow by me. I want to run with them, laughing and cursing and saying “Fuck” all the way up the Summit Avenue hill the last few ungodly, uphill miles.
What I really wanted to do was just say the hell with it, and start out at Boston-qualifying pace and just go ahead and blow up. Take a big risk. See what happens. Now I’m starting to think running it at all is a big risk — a risk about maybe reinjuring myself. I need to get my head in the right place, be conservative the next few weeks, and patient with myself.
I’m never, ever very good at that. But hopefully today, skipping my run was a step in the right direction. Though it was awful to stand out there, on a crisp 55-degree morning and tell Kristen and Angi that I won’t be joining them. One of the very best parts of running is the people I run with. So, so many friends, so many who I only see out running. I haven’t run with Kristen in weeks. Who knows when the next time I’ll see her will be?
OK, enough whining. My son’s 3rd birthday party is today. We bought him a Strider bike. And a cake with bulldozers on it.
My daughter has a puffy pink party dress to wear to the event.
My house is clean. Even all the laundry is done (not put away, but done).
Life is good.
This is what I’m reading now:
Here is a review.