BAD Run

Today I had a HORRIBLE run. I mean, really, really horrible.

I really didn't want to go out in the first place. And I wasn't looking forward to the 16 miles (two loops in the park, run back to Riverside, up to 120th and back to my apartment). Usually though, I start running and after a mile or two I get psyched about finishing. Or I get into a runner's high. Or I just sort of meditate.

But I could not shake my bad mental state today. Every turn I was like "Yes! I'm almost at the hockey rink!" (where I was going to catch up with Bill for a Gu break). But then I would turn the corner and be like "Nope, not here." I was noticing every small incline. I was alternating anger and sadness and apathy. I just DID NOT WANT TO BE THERE. And the fact that I had not reached our 5 mile rest spot and I STILL would have to run 11 miles after that was not making it any better. I have not ever thought of for real quitting a run in the middle (unless I was injured...even then I usually stupidly, finish my run). But I really really really wanted to quit.

Bill waited for me on the hill and asked how things were going. I crossly responded "Sh*tty." We pulled over on a trail where I usually take my Gu and I explained everything to him. He pulled me over to the steps so that we could talk about it. He told me I should finish. He said the one thing he admired about me is how I finish anything no matter what. And that sometimes it is crazy, but I still do it. And if he asks me why I am like "Because. I just need to do it." Normally I would agree with him. But I just felt too crappy. And I told him that for me running is 90% mental and 10% physical. And if my mental is this low it would sort of be like me running with the flu. We sat there for what seemed like forever. And I felt guilty because he was supposed to be doing his 9 miler, which was his longest run so far in his training. Here I was, stopping him at 5.4 miles and being a poop.

We decided that I would finish his 9 miler with him. I would switch my long runs. Next week, instead of doing a 10 (my low mileage week) I would do my 16. I'm not worried about not having a down week between my 16 and 18 because that's actually how I've trained in the past 2 marathons.

Bill stuck by me for the rest of the run (even though I know I was slowing him down). I still was feeling pretty awful for those last 3.6 miles, but it definitely helped. And amazingly, I still logged a 1:26:26 for those 9 miles (a 9:36 pace). That just tells me that it WAS a mental and not physical thing.

Anyway, I'm glad Bill was there. Sometimes it's hard to run on your own and you need a running buddy. :)

He Probably Wants to Kill Me

My husband that is.

Let me first give you some very pertinent information. I am very competitive. It doesn't matter what the stakes are, what the game is, etc. etc. It gets me into trouble a LOT. I remember one time when I was little, my family and another family we were friends with went to play putt-putt. I was such a sore loser (so was my friend Greg though, it wasn't just me), that no one wanted to play putt-putt with us again. Bill (aforementioned husband) will not play Scrabble with me for the same reason.

So here I am, nagging Bill to run. You would love it, I say. At the marathon post-party for my running group, Coach Joe and I almost convinced him to run in the Hyde Park Blast group.

Last night we go for a run. And he kicks my butt. So I acted all sore about it. I was really really trying not to. I was thinking how stupid I was being, but I couldn't help being mad. He asks me if I'm okay. We have found out throughout the years that it is just better to get it all out in the open if something is bugging us. So, unlike a sane woman, who would just say "yeah, I'm fine" I tell him that I am mad.

In fact, I said something like this. "I'm just annoyed. You kicked my butt. I have been training for like over a year, and you haven't even run in a year. It is just so unfair. I mean, I want you to do well. I mean I want you to like running. It's just frustrating."

He very nicely explained that he is just good at running. He very nicely told me that I am a long-distance runner and we only did two miles. He also very nicely pointed out that he would be sore tomorrow and I would be fine. (I guess me being a sore-loser is no surprise to him by now).

I took a shower and I was fine. That is a great improvement from the time it usually takes me to cool down from my stupidness. I just wish I could GROW UP. Errrrrr.

(Oh, and btw, I am very glad that Bill is a good runner. I am just a prat :)