I woke up to a beautiful day - bright and sunny and about 55 degrees. Perfect. The best I've seen since I've been home. I had some oatmeal, packed my camelback, and my mom and I hopped in the car to head up the shore. I LOVE being able to do this run as a point to point (like the race is) and not out and back. So our plan was for my mom to drive me 18 miles up the shore and to pick me up at 26th when I was done.
The drive up, much like the bus trip up on race day, always seems so far. Surrealy so. But it was a beautiful day and I think we both really enjoyed the drive. When we were about 16.5 miles up we started seeing signs that the road ahead was closed. Uh oh. We were able to drive through as there were no actual workers there - but the highway is completely GONE for about a third of a mile! I took a picture of that spot with my phone once I started running.
No road. Just dirt and rocks. I am curious to see the state of things come race day.
I started running and I immediately felt...off. Bad. Not right. I sometimes have low blood sugar problems - but I have never been able to pinpoint when or why or if it's something else like low iron. I had eaten a nice big dinner last night at one of my favorite old Duluth spots - the Pickwick. I had my all-time fave tenderloin tidbits, a baked potato, salad, and more. In short, my body should have been well fueled. I even ate a bowl of oatmeal this morning which I don't usually do before training runs. I usually just start and have my first Gu about 5 miles in. Anyway, I felt awful. It sucked. I was not pleased. The day was beautiful and I felt just wrong.
I stopped about 2.5 miles in and had my first Gu (Chomps), even though it was earlier than usual. That usually helps. It didn't. I stopped about a mile later and had 2 glucose tablets, which I carry "just in case." After that, things started looking up. Slightly. But then...well, I totally had to pee. Fortunately I found a nice spot in the wilderness that didn't seem to be on anybody's property and was able to TCB. By now, my mind was off. I was only about 4 miles into this thing...had already stopped about 4 times, and just didn't feel great. The sugar started to work...but just as it really started to kick in between miles 5-6, my legs started to hurt. Tight and heavy. Already? It was WAY too early. Then I remembered yesterday's "kick" at the end of my run and my note that I would hate myself today for it. I didn't hate myself - but I knew it was going to be a LONG run back to town.
I continued on and just plugged away. Wendy's only instruction was again to enjoy myself at a comfortable pace. Despite the beautiful day, I was not enjoying myself and the pace felt like a death march. I wasn't miserable, I just wasn't able to be comfortable - at all. I did take some comfort in knowing that my mind was dealing with the pain and discomfort better than it would have before - and that is about 75% due to Wendy being in my life both as an example (through her own training) and a "coach." She's tough. She would plug through this and like it. So would I. The other 25% is likely due to the fact that I have just been falling in love with running - and being a runner - more and more over the past months and that reality trumps a LOT of discomfort. It even, at times, made the discomfort feel empowering, giving me a real sense of pride that I am, at that moment, accomplishing something. Working to be better at something I really enjoy doing.
I took a couple more Chomps at mile 8 and snapped a couple pics of this beautiful course.
These don't exactly showcase the best the course has to offer - but alas, it's where I needed some fuel.
One thing I love about running on the course this time of year is all of the other runners out there. We are all out there for the same reason and we know it. It's a neat sense of camaraderie. I even ran into my old high school friend and very competitive local runner, Eric Hartmark. It's just not the same in NYC or DC, where I have lived and trained for most of my life as a distance runner.
I continued to plow through this run the best I could. I had no idea what my pace was, but I knew it was slow. I felt like I was just plugging along and getting it done. I even spent the last 3 miles crafting the email I would send to Wendy telling here that perhaps I was wrong and that we should do a 3-week taper instead of the two I requested. (We are currently 3 weeks out.)
I finally arrived at the end, relieved, and called my mom to come pick me up. While waiting for her, I went in the gas station, chugged a bottle of chocolate milk and bought a bag of ice for my ice bath. I then decided to look at my watch and see my pace - I was hardly curious to see the reality of how it had gone...I was not happy about how hard I was having to work to move at what felt like such a slow pace
Um, oops.
My running has been changing so much lately that, as I think I have referenced before, and I have little idea what pace I am moving and I don't look. I just run comfortably, or hard, or relaxed, or whatever Wendy says.
Let's just say I know why it felt so tough out there...I was moving FAST. OK, not fast, but waaaaaaay faster than I should have been for an 18-miler. I was shocked! I was partly relieved...that there was a reason it felt so tough. And partly freaked out, that I had run this LSD way too fast.
Ah well. We'll see what coach has to say.
I got home and immediately got into my ice bath.
And yes, I wear my socks. One bad experience where my toes got very close to frostbite has led to the addition of socks to my routine.
Three weeks from yesterday is Grandma's Marathon. Can't wait!
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