I had a glorious pity party yesterday! It’s been a tough week in that my expectations were more than likely exceeding reality and I was in no mood to see the rosier side of things. I can usually find the positive in most situations and can turn most crises into lessons learned and move on. All those years working with teenagers have primed me for that 😉 I have also from time to time been accused of being a Pollyanna with an attitude….and I’m more than OK with that. But yesterday, I had no fight me in me. I know stories like this do not inspire and I try to avoid them at all costs, but I’ve decided to embrace it and explore it a bit…
My hip was been whiny, my legs had yet to recover from a stellar race last weekend and my right groin was beginning to make itself known. So Coach wisely took out my speed work and reduced my distance this week. I also had a regularly scheduled visit to Massage & Chiropractor (self care is critical and my age !). So with a bit of care after a test run on Friday, I felt ready to tackle a 30K steady on Saturday:)
Everything went well….until it didn’t; and it never got better after that.
I was running with Allana and Sarah who had a few intervals to do. We were doing our best to maintain paces and not overdo things. We were having great chats, the kinds that stay on the run and we even stopped for a harbour view selfie:). It was a gloriously beautiful day and everybody and their dogs were out and about. I waved good bye to Allana as she finished left to finish her run and Sarah had gone on to do her intervals. So I was solo for the last 12K.
No biggie, so I put the tunes on and then bumped into many runners and stopped to have quick chats. Had a quick chat and pep talk from Coach Erin and continued on my way. I felt pretty OK, this was supposed to be a relaxed steady run and at that point was certain this was going to be a good run day.
As I came into the 23rd K…I started to fade. The heat was building (What happened to that beautiful Fall weather we had last week?), my energy was tanking, my hip began hurting and my brain went into useless overdrive. I walked. I put Redmond rules into effect (the one where I have to walk back 100m and start over every time I walk). So I began running again. And then I walked again…Redmond rules weren’t working. Then I began the “suck-it-up-buttercup” self talk. So I began running again. And then I walked again…the general was failing me.
Usually at this point I dig deeper into the tool chest…but I couldn’t. I believe in hindsight that I was determined to have a sufferfest. Even though I know better the “how can you ever run a marathon if you can’t run 30K” and “you’re supposed to be stronger than this” thoughts were pervasive. I even debated cutting the run short….I mean quit the run! Definitely not my style. At points I was talking to myself out loud and I’m sure I scared a couple of innocent bystanders. I’m not going to go through every thought or debate as I wasn’t looking for any useful strategies to bring me through this.
In all of this negative self talk, I had one thing that seemed to be directing me a bit more purposefully: I wasn’t allowing myself to count one walk-step on my total distance, so I stopped the watch every time I slowed to a walk. If I was going to show a 30K run on Strava it would have to be running-steps. This was going to be long and painful and I was going to make myself suffer through it.
At one point I even told myself that I was looking forward to my ice bath! I’ve NEVER said that before!
Somehow I ended the run at my door at 30K and felt nothing. No “WTG girl, you got this done”. No “phew, that was tough”. No “glad that’s done, what’s next?” Nothing….
Once through the door, I started pouring the bath, took some amino acids & electrolytes, drank a tonne of water, stretched, grabbed the ice and sank into the tub. Of course the run needed to be loaded into Strava and I titled it “Never Judge a Run By Strava”….definitely a double-entendre and at least I began to feel the mood lift slowly.
It wasn’t until the following day that I could really put this into perspective. Had a most beautiful recovery run today with Sarah and Barry and even stopped for a photo up at the Bengal Lancers 😍
I know there are plenty of reasons why this was a tough run and many of you have already shared them with me. Too often we try to package the not-so-good events and try to find ways to feel better about them.
So here’s what I’m going to do. I am going to embrace the suck. I feel like I failed myself on this run and I need to remember these feelings. Suffering is heightened when I try to justify what happened or search for the reasons why. I already know what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m by no means an expert at it 😂 but I do know. To move forward and stop the suffering, I need to chalk this up as a truly ugly run, live with it and leave it there. The memory of this will be my lesson.
The suck is embraced and it’s time to look forward to the next week of training. The marathon is only 42 days away and hopefully the toe I stubbed this morning stops throbbing soon🤪
