My last post was pretty depressing. I was pissed off about a work situation, and that affected my run. Oh, and that dead kitten didn't help, either.
But now I am convinced that the shortened run I did on Thursday was for a reason--so I could kick ass on today's long run. I think as far as running goes I'm a little bipolar. But we'll all just have to find a coping strategy that doesn't involve a prescription to deal with that, won't we?
Anyhoo, I got up today and checked the weather forecast, and my eyes almost bugged out. Sixty degrees for a high? At the end of July? In Chicagoland? Did the North American continent move rapidly and suddenly away from the equator while I had slept?
Barring any super-speedy continental drifting, it was the best weather I could have asked for to run 18 miles today. So you would think that I would have jumped right out the door and got on that 18 mile run, eh?
Nope. I sat around all morning bawling my eyes out watching puppy rescue stories on YouTube like this one:
After that, I checked all of my social media three times, farted around on Yahoo, checked my Feedly, ate lunch, and THEN went running. I headed up to the Long Prairie Trail again because I did not feel like being chased by dogs or being given weird looks by cows. The last time I was there was in the winter, when brown was the dominant landscape theme. Not today, though-there was a distinct greenness to it all today that made it much more inviting:
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| No snow! |
The restroom was much cleaner as well. There was real toilet paper inside and everything!
After I took care of my nitrogenous waste business, I was off. And boy, was I. I started this 18 miler faster than I ever had--with an 11 minute mile as a little warm up. I'll let you take a gander at what happened after that:
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| Look at that weather! GORGEOUS. At 1 PM in July, peeps! |
I have never ever run 18 miles with that average pace before. Ever. For comparison purposes, here is the run I did today compared to my first ever 18 mile run (done in January, by the way):
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| Click to embiggen |
Again, it's about growth, people. You have to know where you've been to see how far you've come.
But it's also about balance. I really really want to hit my goal time in my next marathon. But I also really really don't want to get injured. But you don't make gains by continuing to do what you normally do, so I have been ratcheting up the difficulty of the long runs just a tad. I'm pushing myself, but trying not to push too hard that I go down for weeks trying to heal and injury I inflicted stupidly on myself.
I'm not going to lie--the last three miles were mentally grueling. I had to pull out every trick in the book to get myself not to slow down. But there were two thoughts that kept me going:
1) You are stronger than you think you are. You can do this.
2) 4:10, baby. 4:10.
That last thought is my ideal goal time. It's just a number, I know, but it really gives me the mental oomph I need to keep on keepin' on. I may not even hit that time. But as long as that's the carrot at the end of the stick that makes me put one foot in front of the other, it's fine by me.
Overall, it was a very successful run. The weather was fab, no dogs chased me, bicyclists on the path gave me about an inch of space when they passed me from behind, and Poplar Grove was the only town that smelled like garbage this time. Next week I have 20 miles to do, and this trail may entice me back with all of its little charms.
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