My long run last weekend was THE BEST RUN EVER. I felt good. I felt strong. I felt like I could have gone further, faster. I was not at ALL achy the next day. It was full of magic, and rainbows, and puppies.
I was composing blog posts in my head during miles 8-12 about maybe, finally, feeling like a runner.
I mean, I know I RUN. I know I run at races, and collect shiny medals. I felt like I finally had a pretty legit 10K time a few weeks ago. But, I don't know, it just felt like... maybe I was just a "jogger". Gasp, I know. I know. I say that kind of facetiously, but it seemed like I was running, but not a runner.
Until Saturday, when I was breezing through 12 magical miles like it was nothing. THEN, it was like I turned a corner.
Suddenly, I was a runner. Not just playing at running. A for real, actual runner.
And then I woke up Tuesday, and felt like a slug. I let myself skip my Tuesday easy 7 miles. I justified this, saying I'd make it up in the morning, before the conditioning class. I'm already getting up at 5, how bad could 4 be?
Turns out, it is REALLY, REALLY BAD.
I got out of bed with plenty of time to do 7. And then I putzed around being lazy.
I left the house with enough time to do 6. And I got to the gym, and sat in my car blasting the heater, and sitting in quiet.
I got in the gym with enough time to do 5. And then I started, and it was terrible. I slugged through 2.5 miles, with walk breaks (WALK BREAKS!). I glanced at the clock, and realized if I ran 10:30 pace I could finish with 5 miles. So I ran.
And then I stopped at 4.25, and walked .25 to cool down.
And THEN, I went to conditioning class, and was generally a bitter, mean bitch to very nice people.
Sorry about that, nice people.
I don't know WHAT my funk is, but it's annoying even ME, so I can't imagine being The H right now.
I've spent the last 36 hours pondering WHY I would think I could run 26.2 miles. I baaaarely made it through 4, and it was ugly. 22 more of THAT? I might die.
I'm, right now, fairly certain I will at the very least suck at it.
So the only natural thing to do is book my flight to Seattle, and start hotel shopping for San Fran.
Tonight, I'm supposed to do hill repeats. I've spent HOURS dicking around with map my run trying to plot JUST the right hill, with flat allllllll around it so I can run my warm up and remainder of my 7 miles after. Do you know what's remarkably hard to find? A lone, long, random hill surrounded by flat land.
Sorry this post is so dramatic and whiny and lame. I'm feeling dramatic and whiny and lame, so I thought I'd share. Tomorrow will be better.