During Remembrance Day weekend of 2016, I had shared online a picture of me having returned from a run with a poppy attached to my hat. Little did I know that would mark the start of one solid year of being focused on running, after having given up running for so long. I came back to the blog, and decided to finish what I had started years ago: to run five marathons. And while I was no longer able to complete "Five by 35," since I'd already passed the age of 35 a few years ago, having to deal with the death of my dad and wanting that loss to mean something definitely gave me the motivation to run one more. It wasn't pretty, but it got done - seems like a theme for my life! But nothing that comes without work is worth having anyway, right? I hurt my knee during those last few weeks of training for number five and, were it not for desperately wanting to complete that run for my dad and everyone who donated to my fundraising campaign for Diabetes Canada, I likely would not have chosen to run on race day. In hindsight, while I was mentally ready and prepared to complete number five, I knew my knee was not up to running 42.2 km; still, I went out there anyway. Since that time, I've undergone hours of physiotherapy and exercises to help repair the damage I did.
Well-earned hardware and swag
After a few months, my physiotherapist suggested I join a run club hosted by his clinic. As you may know, I am not, nor have I ever been, a social runner (proof: see posts here, here and here). But this experience was new and - dare I say it? - kind of enjoyable. It was nice to be with other runners of all different skill levels, hearing about their race experiences - and of all manner of running injury they have also endured.
It was only because of my physiotherapist and the run club that I decided to go for my RUN VAN Hat Trick: running all three Vancouver International Marathon Society-organized running events in one year. Obviously, I'd already done the big one, the BMO Vancouver International Marathon, in May. What followed was the Turkey Trot on Granville Island during Canadian Thanksgiving, then the 5k event at the Fall Classic just this past weekend.
RUN VAN Hat Trick: done!
Truthfully, deep down I'd set my sights on running the 10k - if not the half marathon - at the Fall Classic. But the knee just wouldn't let me. And this time... I listened. As a result, I was able to lure my husband into running with me, given the short distance of the event. This was his first real race, and the first one we have ever - officially [wink] - done together. And I still completed my RUN VAN Hat Trick regardless, so... wins all around, I'd say. My knee continues to be a work in progress but after the year of running I've had, that's not necessarily a bad thing. This year has really changed my perspectives on running, and in positive, unexpected ways.I've realized there will always be another goal, another race upon which to set my sights. My long distance days may be over for now, but I've learned to never say never. My hope now is that I'll be able to relax, really take the time to listen to my body - and just enjoy each run as it comes.
Fall Classic 2017: our first official race together but hopefully not the last. Pic cred: M. Boulton.
As it turns out, I didn't have to crawl on my hands and knees to cross the finish line on Sunday... although, it came close to that. Get ready... After four-plus months of training, almost five years on the blog and going back nearly eight years to when this crazy marathoning journey started, all I wanted to do was make it to the start line of the BMO Vancouver Marathon healthy and ready to rock. Unfortunately, some problems with my right knee crept up on me during my taper and, even though I spent days resting and icing it, it became a problem that I couldn't ignore. Thankfully (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), I'm stubborn like a mule so that wasn't going to stop me. Get set... Race weekend is normally such a big deal for me; I love the anticipation and excitement of it all. Picking up my race package and being around hundreds or thousands of other runners is normally fun and exhilarating. My knee pain, however, kind of sucked all the joy out of race weekend for me. I was hobbling around the Race Expo, super bummed. But by the night before the race, I had somehow managed to calm (steel?) the nerves and put it out of mind. Que sera, sera, as it were. Go! As I stood in my corral with the other "slow" runners, I started to feel that rush of being at the start line with the whole morning in front of me. I had decided to pace very conservatively, to give my knee time to warm up and hopefully loosen up. The first few kilometres went by with no issues at all, and I began to gain a little confidence - something I had been lacking all week long. At some point, I noticed my knee felt... well, if not good then as good as it was going to get. The problem was actually my right hip. It's just a theory, but I think my hip started to compensate for my knee, which is why the knee felt okay. Overall, this compensation might have been okay over a short distance, but the hip started to really tighten up the further into the race I went. Remembering my conversation with the Team Diabetes staff a few days earlier, I listened to my body and made concessions. At first, I decided to switch from running 10 minutes/walking one minute, to running five minutes/walking one minute i.e. five and ones instead of 10 and ones, hoping to give my hip a rest and a bit of a "walking stretch". I also told myself, "Get to the halfway mark."
Pausing at the top of the hill
Sure enough, I made it past the halfway marker on this strategy. But by this point, the race had circled around to the top of Pacific Spirit Park heading into Spanish Banks/Point Grey... all downhill. Normally, this would be great - a nice chance to recover. But not this time. This long downhill stretch was bad on the hip. Real bad. Wait. Abort? Once I got down the hill I had to change my strategy again and, instead of running five and ones, I had to switch to running every two minutes... and then every other minute. I set a new target: get to Spanish Banks, which was about 23 km in. I figured, that's a reasonable goal... and if I could make it there, I'd be back on "home turf" i.e. one of my regular running neighbourhoods. Maybe - just maybe - by telling myself these things, I could trick my body into going a little further each time. At Spanish Banks, another new target: make it to 32 km. "At least at 32 km", I told myself, "that will match my longest long run. Make it to 32 km and walk from there."
Sadly, the hip gave up well before then - at around 26 km, as a matter of fact. If my hip could talk, it was basicallysaying, "Fuck you, lady. Did you hear me? NOPE."
So... I walked. And then, right at Cornwall and Yew in Kitsilano, at about 27 km - I'll never forget it, because I run this area all the time - I started to cry. I tried to hold the tears back, but they came anyway. All I could think about was that I was so far from the end ohmigod I'll never make it what do I do I don't know what to do I don't think I can make it. One foot in front of the other. I put one foot in front of the other for one more block - and there was my husband, standing at the next corner. When I got close enough, I didn't hold back anymore. I started sobbing. I'm so far from the end ohmigod I'll never make it what do I do I don't know what to do I don't think I can make it. We started walking together a little, so I could try and calm down. And then we saw it: the 28 km marker. My brain: 14 km. 14 km left. Me: "14 km. There's 14 km left." [pause - then, to my husband:] "Wanna walk 14 km with me?" My husband: "Sure." And just like that, my husband saved my marathon.
"How much further?" "It's a little, tiny... 9 miles." Wow, Simon Pegg. I can SO relate.
Nothing like a beautiful stroll on a Sunday afternoon That's how I finished number five. Walking 14 km with my husband, on a Sunday afternoon, over the Burrard Street bridge, along English Bay and around the whole of Stanley Park. It may not have been stunning "running" (as BMO Vancouver Marathon runners know it). It was definitely not how I'd imagined my day would go. But for something so unexpected, it could have been so much worse. Some of the MarathonFoto pics from the event are available and, while I can't share any of them on the blog (because I haven't bought any), let me tell you: I looked a sad sack in so many - but not in the pics with my husband next to me. I'm actually smiling in those. Which, considering how badly this marathon was turning out performance-wise, was surprising. I asked for a miracle, didn't I? Turns out, I got one.
Unofficial results
The result The full marathon started at 8:30 am. I crossed the finish line at 2:46 pm. My gun time was 6 hours and 16 minutes, chip time 6 hours and 8 minutes. Overall, I placed at 3,479 out of 4,696 full marathoners. In my category of F35-39, 204 out of 284. Out of all females, I was number 1,347 out of 1,866. New personal bests worsts in a lot of ways but - you know something? Who cares? A finish is a finish is a finish. Right? As a friend told me post-marathon, "It's never about the measure or time but always about the journey and process. You showed perseverance, resilience and heart. Never forget that you are a fighter. Unreal job." So - how does it feel? To quote the (IMHO) inimitable movie, Bring It On: "Feels like first." War wounds I really wanted to mention my "war wounds" from the day, because they were (are) significant... ly painful. Posterior knee pain (left). Since my right hip gave out completely and the left side of my body had to do so much work to compensate, I ended up with a hella lot of pain at the back of my left knee. A little research, and it turns out - there's a muscle back there! The internet tells me this is called the popliteus. Who knew? Walking is now an issue but hopefully only a temporary setback.
Sorry gang, had to include a pic. This blister is so weird!
Blisters. The bum knee, bad hip and painful popliteus all resulted in poor "running" (I use the term loosely) form... which translated into crazy blisters. Which - for one - is unusual because I don't normally get blisters. But the blisters were also strangely placed: right at the base of my third and fourth toes on my left foot, and on the bottoms of the fourth toe on both feet. Inner thigh chafing. This one could probably have been avoided but - my bad. I chose to wear running shorts that I knew sometimes chafed along the inner thigh. Thankfully, the chafing was relatively minimal and nothing that a warm shower and a little antibiotic ointment couldn't handle. Sunday night, I couldn't use my right hip flexor at all. I was sitting on the floor with my legs straight out in front of me, and my right hip refused to lift my right leg up. It was kind of like it drank too much and passed out - no reaction, whatsoever.
Ironically, the right knee that had bothered me all last week is now completely pain-free. I just don't get it. Maybe I'm not meant to. Honourable mentions Shitty day aside, running this marathon in Vancouver was pretty amazing. There's a reason why this event has been going strong for decades: the Vancouver International Marathon Society knows what they're doing. Like, for real. A well-organized course, fun entertainment stations, a highly engaged and mobilized volunteer force... who could ask for more? I also saw so many friends on the course, which I never experienced before in previous marathons because none of them were in my city! Thank you so much Kirsten, Kathy P., Hecel, Christina S. and Fay. Seeing you ladies really helped put a smile on my face and keep my spirits up.
Hanging out at the start line before the corrals get too crowded
Of course, I would be absolutely remiss to not give my husband HUGE PROPS here. I genuinely believe I would not have crossed the finish line without his love and support. So, thank you Matt! for literally being by my side and metaphorically carrying me for 14 km. You salvaged this race for me. As with so many things in this life, I could not have done this without you. I love you. Good job, running friends! I'd also like to congratulate everyone else who ran either the full or half marathon on Sunday: Jeny, Christina S. and her sister, Jim, Jen T. and Samantha (sorry if I've inadvertently missed anyone). Hope you all had great races! Fundraising update
Good job, friends!
Thanks to a few (somewhat forgetful and/or tardy) friends, a few more donations for my fundraising campaign in memory of my dad came in at the 11th hour to put the campaign at $3,681! This total was a team effort from 80 donors giving anywhere between $10 and $100. You guys made this happen. Thank you so much.
If you'd still like to give, please do so at my Team Diabetes personal page! Donations can be made for two more months following the marathon, so there is still time. All proceeds go towards diabetes research, education and advocacy. Tax receipts are issued for donations of $15 or more.
And... relax What happens now? I dunno. For now, I'm just gonna bask in the glory that is finally finishing number five. I have slayed the proverbial dragon. That's good enough for me.
Chillin' with John Stanton from the Running Room post-marathon. No big.
Race weekend is nearly here! Here's what I've been up to, or what I've wanted to write about but have been procrastinating instead, all week long. Hoping there's no "kneed" to worry Tapering is great. It feels like a nice break after so much hard work. The advice for tapering is generally: back off the mileage, but keep running i.e. don't just stop running altogether.
Love these banners. Pic cred: @broadwayrunclub
So last weekend, I did a 6 km run with my husband, which was a nice little treat as we don't run together that often. After the run, however, I noticed one of my knees was quite sore - but no big, sometimes that happens; my knees have always been a little crunchy. But then... my knee was sore the next day, and the day after that. I'd been icing and foam rolling, and I'd stayed off it i.e. no running whatsoever. So when I woke up Wednesday morning and it was still sore with seemingly no improvement, I started to panic a little bit... along the lines of, "WTF is wrong with this knee [because I really had no idea]? Am I seriously not going to being able to run on Sunday??" (Cue fainting and then waking up immediately followed by uncontrollable sobbing. If that were the case.) Fortunately, my knee finally felt like it had started to loosen up today. Luckily, with some more ice and rest and a bit of targeted massage, it'll feel nice and normal and ready to go by this weekend. Fingers, toes and knees crossed! Running for depressives I recently read Matt Haig's book, Reasons to Stay Alive. I'm not one much for reading self-help books, but it had been rated highly and was touted as part memoir, so I thought I'd give it a go. Rather than this be a proper book review, I'll simply say: I liked it. And: it's worth reading. Also, I wanted to share an excerpt from his book (which I hope the author won't mind) as in it, he writes about how running helped him manage his depression. As someone who too, has suffered with this, I could totally relate. Figured this would also be timely, given the recent work done by Heads Together at the London Marathonto tackle stigma surrounding mental health. Thanks for your words, Matt. Running is a commonly cited alleviator of depression and anxiety. It certainly worked for me. When I started running I was still getting very bad panic attacks. The thing I liked about it was that many of the physical symptoms of panic - the racing heart, the problematic breathing, the sweating - are matched by running. So while I was running I wouldn't be worried about my racing heart because it had a reason to be racing. Also, it gave me something to think about. I was never exactly the fittest person in the world, so running was quite difficult. It hurt. But that effort and discomfort was a great focuser. And so I convinced myself that through training my body I was also training my mind. It was a kind of active meditation. It also, of course, gets you fit. And getting fit is pretty much good for everything. When I became ill I had been drinking and smoking heavily, but now I was trying to undo that damage. So every day I would go running, or do an equivalent type of cardiovascular exercise. Like Haruki Murakami - whose excellent book What I Talk About When I Talk About Running I would later read - I found running to be a way of clearing the fog. ('Exerting yourself to the fullest within your individual limits: that's the essence of running,' Murakami also said, which is something I've come to believe too, and is one of the reasons I believe it helps the mind.) I would come back from a run and stretch and have a shower and feel a gentle sense of release, as though depression and anxiety were slowly evaporating from inside me. It was a wonderful feeling. Also, that kind of monotony that running generates - the one soundtracked by heavy breathing and the steady rhythm of feet on pavements - became a kind of metaphor for depression. To go on a run every day is to have a kind of battle with yourself. Just getting out on a cold February morning gives you a sense of achievement. But that voiceless debate you have with yourself - 'I want to stop! No, keep going! I can't, I can hardly breathe! There's only a mile to go! I just need to lie down! You can't!' - is the debate of depression, but on a smaller and less serious scale. So for me, each time I forced myself out there in the cold grey damp of a West Yorkshire morning, and pushed myself to run for an hour, it gave me a little bit of depression-beating power. A little bit of that 'you'd better be careful with who you are messing with' spirit. It helped, sometimes. Not always. It wasn't foolproof. I wasn't Zeus. There were no magic thunderbolts at my disposal. But it is nice to build up, over the years, things that you know do - on occasion - work. Weapons for the war that subsides but that can always ignite again. And so writing, reading, talking, travelling, yoga, meditation and running were some of mine. My dad is my trainer These past four months training for number five, I've faced a whole gauntlet of emotion: joy, elation, anxiety, fear, uncertainty, sadness, overwhelm, anger. Running, for me, has always had the ability to bring out all of these feelings and put them right at the forefront - at a place where one is forced to face them all, versus putting them aside or trying to ignore them.
Me and my dad, then and (almost) now
That was even more telling, this time around in training, doing all this for my dad. On those days when the runs were hard, and all I wanted to do was quit, thinking about my dadkept me going. I have this memory from when I was a kid and he was teaching me how to ride a bike. I was terrible at it. I was scared. So scared, in fact, I didn't want him to let go. And - you know something? He didn't. He ran so much trying to get me to learn how to ride that stupid bike. When I think about it now, it makes me laugh... seeing him in my mind's eye, hanging onto the back of my bike, me crying about not being able to do it, him not letting go because I didn't want him to. Of course, he eventually let go and I discovered I was able to do something I felt I'd never be able to do. I guess that's still what it's like today. He may not be here anymore but he had my back then, and he certainly still does now. Those hard days during training, I conjured up his memory - and there he was, supporting me, urging me to keep going, encouragingme to not give up. And I didn't. I completed all those long runs. I made it to the end of every route I'd planned. Hopefully that will be the case on Sunday as well. Come hang out with me on the course! There is a very handy feature on the BMO Vancouver Marathon website, whereby you can look up my bib number and then "watch" me as I'm running... so a little creepy, but mostly cool, right? The system updates each time runners cross the following marked distances on the course: 8.5 km, 10 km, 12 km, 15 km, 21.1 km (halfway!), 24 km, 29 km, 35 km, 40 km and, of course, 42.2 km a.k.a. the finish line. Plus, the weather looks like it's going to be great. Definitely hoping that the forecast holds out! If you come out on Sunday, be sure to find me and say hi... especially if you donated, so that I can give you a big sweaty hug and thank you in person.
There is now less than one week to go until the BMO Vancouver Marathon! In the weeks and days leading up to the race, I've been feeling a little emotional - thinking about my dad and why I decided to do number five (finally). And now... you've helped me reach my Team Diabetes fundraising target of $3,500 and I am totally and utterly speechless. More to come in the next few days but for now, let me just say: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I am overwhelmed by your generosity and support and well wishes, and am so grateful that so many of you decided to help Diabetes Canadaand little ol' me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Run at times of day similar to the scheduled race time to get used to what might happen on race day e.g. waking up early enough, eating breakfast, prepping gear, getting dressed, stretching and warming up, etc.
Run in all kinds of weather - because you never know what you're gonna get on race day.
I was here... and here, and here...
Run on the same surface as the race to condition your body for similar impact e.g. concrete or trails versus treadmills.
Pay attention to your diet (nutrition is important).
Stay hydrated.
Get enough sleep.
Find someone who knows more than you about running and ask them lots of questions about everything you don't know - but know that not everything works the same or as well for everyone.
Find a good registered massage therapist and visit him/her as often as you can.
Find a good physiotherapist and consult him/her as needed.
Give yourself lots of encouragement every day.
Surround yourself with people who support your goals.
Get enough sleep leading up to the race (tip: even a good night's sleep two nights before versus the night before the race can be enough - just try and stay well rested as race day approaches).
Don't try or do anything new e.g. with clothing (potential chafing), gear (unexpected issues with weight, function), breakfast, gels or other nutrition (avoiding digestive issues), etc.
Get to the start line with time to spare.
Enjoy the race! You've earned it.
Journal entry
Today's run: 23 km and technically, the last LSD in the training schedule. Yay for tapering! Weather: overcast and partly sunny this morning, which is why I deliberately went out early (note: it's raining now but at least I'm watching the bad weather from my couch instead of being in it). Feeling: glad to have missed the rain! And looking forward to the rest of the weekend.
Okay, friends. Here we are: T minus one month to number five-marathon day! Like, holy shit. My week I'm gonna level with you. It has not been a great week for running. After my encouraging 32 km run two weekends ago, I think I may have jinxed myself. Writing about how I was feeling all "confident" and wishing I could just "run this marathon tomorrow" and get it over with... man, was I ever asking for it. After a bit of socializing with friends... and scotch... and lots of it... last Friday night, I stupidly put myself out of commission for the weekend. So when I went to do my 23 km long run on Monday after work I told myself, "It's fine. Take your time." And I did. But the run was still shit. I was sooooo mad at myself! After cutting my long run short (only by a little; I ended up running 22.75 km - so close), I got home, grunted something to my husband and immediately retreated to a cold bath - y'know, for the legs - but mostly so I could be totally alone to stew in my own fury... and even though I was literally soaking in cold water, it did very little to stem the white hot rage I was feeling towards myself and my bad choices.
All I could think was: I'd been working so hard these past three-plus months and here I was, putting my training schedule and performance at risk... for a house party?? Fuck that. Somewhere around the 20 km mark my irritability peaked and, in that cold bath, I resolved right then and there to have a dry month, right up to the marathon. No more bad decisions. No more being so stupid. Not with elusive number five on the line. But because I was so angry, that frustration with myself hung on like the smell of garlic right through the rest of the week and permeated every workout I did: a short 3 km treadmill run on Wednesday, and a resistance training day yesterday. All rage, all the time. So... not great. Only now is the exasperation I've felt all week finally starting to abate. Boo on you, Mother Nature
Indoor running due to inclement weather? Thumbs down. And ugly face.
To top off a crap week, Mother Nature continues to be a downer on the west coast. After a spot of sunshine on Sunday/Monday, it's been nothing but rain and wind - and therefore complete misery. My current running attire is okay for rain, but I've been seriously considering buying all the rain gear, if for nothing else but to encourage the rain to just stop it already. On a high note: fundraising update I didn't mean for this blog post to be all whiny and complainy, so sorry about all that.
On a positive note, I've been lucky enough to have a few more very generous people throw their money at my campaign in the last few weeks, so I am now up to $2,701 of my $3,500 fundraising goal, which is extremely good news. Woohoo! And thank you so much, again, to all my donors!
Soooo close! Help a girl hit a fundraising goal??
This means I only have $799 (or as a salesperson would probably put it, "Less than $800") to go in my fundraising efforts and geez... wouldn't it be great if I actually hit that $3,500 target? Especially after getting so close??
If you haven't yet donated but would still like to, please do so here (at teamdiabetes.ca/goto/fiveorbust). It would mean the world to me - and would be a really great motivational boost after the week I've had beating myself up.
Until next time Have a great weekend, friends. Hopefully more cheerful updates to follow, especially with only four weeks to go until the marathon... gasp!
Even this beautiful reprieve from all the wet didn't help me much last week. Reminder to self: make good choices.
LSD. No, not that, or even "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds". I'm talking about the long slow distance run, like the one I did today. I've always wondered why marathon training programs typically top out at 32 km, so I looked into it. Here's what I found out. Why 32 km? The training program I've referenced for all of my marathons comes from the Running Room and, like many other programs, the longest distance to run in training is 32 km (20 mi). But why this distance, specifically, and not something closer to actual marathon distance of 42.2 km? According to the interwebs (Matz, 2014; Runner's World, 2014), the general theory is: anything longer can increase the risk of injury. Recovery also takes longer with any runs over 32 km. Hanson’s marathon training method (Humphrey, 2011) also outlines that running for more than three hours means diminishing returns for runners, doing more harm than good by damaging muscles, compromising recovery time, and depleting glycogen stores significantly (Matz, 2014).
At least I'm consistent.
Best to ignore that though, right? The above, however, I believe does not apply to me. According to a trainer I worked with when I first ran with Diabetes Canada in 2009, the long run pace for those looking "to complete" i.e. no specific finish time goals should be "between 8:30 to 9:30 minutes per kilometer...if you are going faster you stressing [sic] your body to the point that it can not [sic] recover by the next quality workout" (email from Team Diabetes Trainer, 2009). Doing the math, this works out to what is my typical finish time for these long runs which is around four and a half hours.
So... I dunno In summary, looking at all the information as a whole: I dunno what the right answer is. What I do know is that, until I got the above information from a trainer, I had been running too fast (for me) on my long runs and was well on my way to injury and burnout. Her advice saved me in training for my first marathon, and I successfully finished that marathon without getting hurt. And - looking at my data over the years and having finished three more marathons since then, I'd say that advice has served me well over the years. If anyone else is slower, I sure haven't seen them Logically, I know there are slower runners than me out there; finisher information from all of my races has told me that. But where they are? I sure as hell don't know. I don't pass anyone when I'm out there; I am definitely the one getting passed. Sometimes this bothers me, but thenI remind myself of the distance I'm running and I usually get over it. ...but then, what if they're running the same distance, only a lot faster than me? In those instances, I'm gonna guess that advice like Hanson's is for them. In conclusion... With six more weeks of training to go, I'm gonna stick with what I know works. That means, slow long runs, soaking my legs in cold water, foam rolling, rest and shorter runs throughout the week. This way, I know that I can recover adequately from week to week. No pushing past what is realistic for me. No comparing myself to others and what I'm reading on the internet (even though that can be really hard to do). And - if I could - I would run this marathon tomorrow, mainly because I'm sick of training. But since that's not possible, all I can do is stay vigilant, and hope for nice weather and strong runs based on my current fitness level. Journal entry for today Today's run: 32 km. Weather: started out damp, but turned out to be partly sunny (thank you, Mother Nature!). Feeling: good. Confident. Which is freaking me out, a little. Not sure if I should embrace it, or wait for the other shoe to drop. Gonna try to let it go.
When I had asked my manager for today off, I had running 32 km in mind. Imagine... a whole day during the normal work week to just go running. How extraordinary! But then, I reconsidered. Imagine... a whole day during the normal work week... to just do nothing. How even more extraordinary! I still have the weekend to get out and do my long run (which I shall) but I got a short run in this week, and even went to the gym yesterday. Plus, I've got a big stack of books borrowed from the library that I really should try and get through (yes, I still borrow books from the library - don't you?). Also, I'm growing quite tired of running in the cold and rain, and am hedging my bets for the weekend to provide better weather. Come on, Mother Nature! Do a girl a solid, would you? That's the spirit. Here's to my day off! Back to the couch and my many library books, I go.
29 km was on the schedule again today and man, did things click soooooo much better than last week. Focus, pacing, running the tangents, gait, cadence - it all worked well today. Guess that means last week's 29 km run did some good. I was so hyperfocused, in fact, that I took no pictures and shot zero video. So instead, here's the Spencer Davis Group for a little entertainment.
Today's run: 29 km. Weather: no rain, thank God (especially after getting drenched, cold and miserable on last weekend's long run). Feeling: like I'm in a good place. My left Achilles had been bothering me a little this week, so I was a little anxious when I first started out but it all turned out okay. Guess the icing and stretching I'd been doing helped. How about that? Next week: 32 km and the first attempt at the longest distance in the training schedule. Bring it. P.S. Happy last day of winter! Good riddance.
Okay guys, I'm kind of freaking out a little. My long run this weekend is scheduled at 29 km. Like, 29 freaking km. Normally, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to make sure I get my long runs in - for example, prep my gear the night before, make sure my Garmin is charged up and ready to go, check the weather forecast for no mental surprises. My favourite and surefire tactic is to leave first thing in the morning before thinking about it too much. By the time my brain has caught up, I'm usually 20 or 30 minutes into the run which generally means: no turning back now.
However, the problem with not having run these really long distances in so long is that I really don't know if I can do them anymore. Sure, I've been doing a fairly good job at sticking to the training schedule and yes, I've already done 26 km... so what's 3 km more on top of that, right? Right??
I'm nervous and scared, that's for sure. But I'm excited, too - excited to see if I can do it, excited to try, excited to prove to myself that I can.
But, yeah. Mostly, I'm just trying to not think about it too much lest I freak the fuck out and end up immobile.
Here's to my first 29 km long run in three years! Wish me luck. I may need it.
