All bummed out.

It's been an interesting working out week.

I had a good 6 x 800 m treadmill session on Tuesday, a nice slow run on Wednesday, and finally got to run a tempo at my 10K pace outside Friday morning.

But it seems like something is amiss.

I'm midway through my marathon training program, and I am tired.  Not just my legs, but my whole body, mind, and soul is tired.  I am having a hard time getting my butt up and moving for a run these days; I'm hoping its just because now I am pulling 40+ miles a week, a mileage my body has never experienced before with this much regularity.

And I'm not seeing a lot of gains in speed or endurance.

Part of me is a little scared that I haven't been pushing the intensity of my workouts in order to achieve my goal race pace.  You see I went and did that whole "reading" thing again, and bought the book Run Less, Run Faster, which proclaims that by running 3 solid workouts a week--and pushing their intesnity--you can PR and run miracle miles and have a fabulous life.  Well, maybe not that last part, but the PRs are sprinkled throughout the book.

Looking at my training plan, I realize it's just a modified version of the plan presented in that book.  But I've been slacking on the pace of my tempo runs when I do them on the treadmill.  And I don't think I've been practicing enough at pace during my long runs or doing cross-training that is aerobic enough (I love my weights, dammit).

I guess I'm torn as to what to do--go with what my body feels I should do, or push beyond that and go for pace.  Because you only get faster by running faster.  Like all things, I suppose, it's a matter of meeting myself somewhere in the middle of all my fear and tiredness.

That's what I have to keep telling myself as I prepare for a 16 mile long run today that is supposed to be at race pace.  It was supposed to be yesterday, but my intestines and a lack of a place to use nature's facilities without being spotted changed my plans.  I managed 5 miles yesterday, with the last 400m speedwalking back to my house so as to not embarrass myself on the road.  There's something inherently cruel about the fact that when you REALLY have to go when you're out on a run, running just makes that "about to mess my pants" feeling worsen--but walking in single-digit windchills isn't all that fun, in case you haven't experienced that.

Looks like I'll have a lot to think about when I'm on this run today.  I'll let you know if I work anything out, or push myself too far and end up injuring myself.  But I will leave you with this picture of me after I took off my balaclava after Friday's tempo run just to lighten the mood: