Until tonight, running recently has been sloppy and frustrating.
After piecing together 15 miles between near-constant thunderstorms last week, I decided to head out for a big 18 miler early Sunday after some good churchin' and a fun Mother's Day celebration Saturday night.
I felt weird from the start of the run. Dori and I think we've had a cold for a few days, and Sunday's blahs were confirmation. Two miles in, I decided 18 miles wasn't a good idea; instead, I trudged through six miles, rounded up the family for nine holes of golf and channel-surfed the rest of the day.
This morning, after 10 hours' sleep, I blew off a planned run. My back hurt and muscles still ached ... No way, Jose, I thought. I arrived home tonight at 7, said hello to the family and headed out for a five miler. I felt revved up from the get-go. What a difference 12 hours makes, I thought. In benign conditions, I went sub 9:00 the first mile and was itching to go fast.
So I accelerated ... 8:30 in mile two and faster each mile. I floored it the last mile, going sub 8:00 with ease. If I had raced, I'm pretty sure I would have PR'd five miles.
Within a span of a day, I've gone from deflation to believing I'm ready for a big race. Still, what the hell was yesterday all about? The body knows, and I'm glad I listened. Hopefully, my body and mind will be in the right place when I undertake 26.2.
Speaking of knowing your body, Lance Armstrong broke his collarbone in March, but is in fifth place in the Tour of Italy. Anyone surprised?
Running can be so frustrating. You do have to listen to your body, Keep on keeping on.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, I was looking forward to one of your lush descriptions of your mother's day feast/
Hey, PJ.
ReplyDeleteWe went out for dinner to a low-key restaurant that has very good food. My sister and I ordered a Bottega Vinai Pinot Grigio for the group. Dori loved her salmon, I had a nice pasta with spicy vodka cream sauce, grilled chicken and garlic, and the kids split a flat iron steak.
One highlight was Kathryn's reaction to her first bite of creme brulee: "You guys never told me about this!" Yes, it was a covert operation to keep you away from it until age 11.
Jim