Like I said yesterday, I was attending a conference this weekend and thus was out of town until this morning. Well, I was actually *in* a town, just not my own town. I was in Frank Sinatra's kind of town-Chicago. I was planning on getting in as many miles as I could in Chicago before heading home and finishing the run. And since I am not allowed to run about outside in the downtown area via husband decree (I'm working on getting that decree rescinded because it is based on paranoia and unfounded fear), I had to get up and run on the treadmill this morning.
Welcome to my view for the next hour and a half.
I would like to point out that, during that hour and a half run, I saw approximately 3,576 runners outside running around in that little view of mine, giving me complete and total running-outside-envy and making me wish I had packed some winter gear so I could simply defy my husband's decree (he was sleeping while I was running, anyway--he would never have known!).
Anyhoo, I managed to get 10 miles in, and they were some of the easiest treadmill miles I've had in a long time.
Every time a mile ticked by, I kept telling myself that it was one less mile I had to do outside later. This was surprisingly motivational for me. So was the fact that I pretty much had their large palatial fitness center mostly to myself the entire time.
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| I feel so insignificant. |
After that, I had every intention of going home and finishing the other 10 outside. In fact, I even got dressed to go for a run right after getting home.
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| Surprise! 10 more miles! Not! |
But then stupid things like "driving" and "unpacking" and "going to get my dogs from the boarding place" and "eating dinner" and "doing laundry" got in the way.
By the time I did all that, I was pretty de-motivated to run outside since, you know, dark and cold and windy, so I put on some treadmill clothes and hopped on the treadmill to get in as many miles as I could before bed.
And that's when the chafing stopped me.
Literally, it stopped me. I could only manage half a mile before I had to stop and scrap the rest of the run. It seems the underwear I wore this morning had done more damage than I realized, even though I applied lotion liberally after the run this morning and had even put on body glide when I got home. But none of that worked. Every step caused waves of red-hot chafing goodness to shoot through my body.
Needless to say, I was completely bummed. That was the last 20 miler on my training schedule, and I really needed to get it in. My plan has five 20 milers, and I have only done two of them (one of them came close - a 17 miler). So I was kind of in panic mode about this until I realized that next weekend I signed up for this little gem of a half marathon.
What's 7 more miles after 13.1? Not much. And I know I'll actually do them on this course, since it's in the middle of a forest preserve with paths galore to explore. And we now know I'm an idiot who wears the wrong kind of undies for a long run on a treadmill.
Learnings in 3...2...1...
- Chafing. Never a good thing.
- Once again, telling myself I'll do a run later is a complete lie.
- Why do I believe my own lies? Pffft.
- I'm going to get that 20 miler in next weekend even if it kills me. Or at least causes me much anguish and suffering before getting it done.
- You may admire the awesomeness of those running tights in the comments below.
- You may also expound on how cute my dogs are in the comments at any time, as long as the comment contains the words "super cute."
Tomorrow's workout: Upper body weights. What Cathe workout I'm going to do for that remains to be seen...
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