This past weekend's long run was supposed to be my "recovery" long run from the previous weekend's 20-miler. I wasn't expecting any magic, but my performance still fell below my already low expectations. Part of the reason for my shoddy run, I'm certain, is because my quads were still terribly sore from the previous Wednesday night's Crossboot class. It's been a long time since I've finished a CB workout that left me in crippling pain for days afterward, so I wasn't expecting it this time. And I have a feeling most others who took the class weren't in as much pain. The problem is that my legs--particularly my thighs--are not very strong, so when I did a wall-sit for about six minutes straight, just to start out the class (which was followed by weighted squat jumps and other quad-burning exercises), I should have known I was in trouble. In fact, I should have backed off. I should have chosen to do my reps with a weight lighter than 20 pounds, but I felt a need to prove to myself that I was still strong. You see, last week was my breakdown week, and I was feeling all sorts of incapable. I bailed on a training run for the first time this cycle, and I hadn't been going regularly to Crossboot classes, or yoga, for that matter. I was feeling all-around weak, and I needed to feel stronger. Right away. But it just doesn't work that way. I should have given myself more credit for completing that 20-miler--and without incident. It takes a toll on the body. And just because I know others who seem to bounce back from them with ease, I know my body is different, and so is my ability. I need to remember and appreciate that.
So on this 16-miler, which was initially only going to be 12-14, I again felt a need to make up for the run I'd bailed on. But my legs were still so sore and heavy. So I really struggled to keep up with Nicole on her 18 miles (two of which she ran before I met up with her). We did the same thing as last week: met up with the Sharks, ran one full loop on Davis Islands (which I now know is plural, even though it doesn't sound right), then ran the shorter loop. For the second loop, another runner from the Sharks group, Leda, asked to join us as we were heading out. She was super friendly and agreed to run our pace, which had remained just under an average 10min/mi. But as soon as I started, I could tell I wasn't going to keep that pace. I tried, and I hung in there for a couple miles, but I slowly started lagging behind while Nicole and Leda chatted comfortably ahead. I could tell they were trying to slow down for me, but I just wanted them leave me to my suffering (yes, it felt that dramatic!). Eventually Leda parted to finish her mileage via a different route, and Nicole and I trudged along until we had about a half-mile left, and she picked up her pace. I normally would have, too, at that point, but I had nothing left. Nicole even ran an additional .6 miles, but I stopped right when I hit 16 miles and walked the rest of the way in. I was just glad to be done.
Tim was waiting for me at my car, and he was in rough shape, too, having just completed his second 20-miler (with a sprouting IT band injury). We were a pretty sad sight with his limping and my legs buckling. We hobbled to the car, then from the car into the gas station for ice and back into the car, then home for ice baths. (Sitting down after a difficult run like that makes it all the more difficult to get back up.) I did manage to make a proper ice bath this time, and it helped a little bit. This was the first Saturday in a while, it felt like, that I didn't have something on my calendar to do right after my long run. So I milked the free time for all it was worth, lying in bed, snacking, watching scuzzy TV. It was glorious.
Later that evening, we had plans to go to the Summer of Rum Festival. This seemed like a great festivity to partake in after working hard that morning, but we forgot about couple of factors that were not in our favor: (1) we don't like crowds, (2) we'd been up since around 4:00 a.m., and (3) we also don't like lines. After waiting in four crowded lines, we got our first drink (we were both pretty grumpy). I ordered a Mai Tai, which I'd never had before, but it sounded good. However, this drink was about 90% alcohol, and I don't like to actually taste the alcohol in mixed drinks. Luckily, Nicole and two other friends were there, so I gave my drink to Nicole after we met up with them. The next drink we got was from the frozen drink stand, but the frozen drink machines weren't working properly, so the bartenders were pouring the liquefied frozen drink mixes over ice. As one friend put it, "it taste[d] like a popsicle." I gave up after that. Tim got one more, to make use of the drink tickets we'd already purchased, and I think he got a good one in the end. But we were all pretty much over the event by then and decided to bail and head to Fly Bar for some food and a night cap. And then I needed to go to bed, like pronto. It hit me fast and hard.
I rested on Sunday and didn't run again until Monday evening, when I did six miles. I started out at a decent pace with Tim, then we joined up with his dad, and slowly our pace fell a bit. It was largely my doing, I think. Now I'm not used to running in the evenings, and I can't maintain the pace I start out with. The same thing happened last night, for nine miles. Actually, the first few felt good, but gradually my pace fell by nearly a minute by the end of my run. I was fighting for those last couple of miles. That run cemented my decision to do lower-mileage long run this weekend; my other option was to try to squeeze in a second 20-miler, which would allow me to do a third in a few weeks. But I now know that's not what I need for this training. My body is telling that pretty loudly. So I'll just appreciate all of the work I've put in, take it easy this weekend, and try to pick up some momentum next week, when I'll have six more weeks of training left, three of which will be taper weeks! Now THAT is something to look forward to ;-)
So on this 16-miler, which was initially only going to be 12-14, I again felt a need to make up for the run I'd bailed on. But my legs were still so sore and heavy. So I really struggled to keep up with Nicole on her 18 miles (two of which she ran before I met up with her). We did the same thing as last week: met up with the Sharks, ran one full loop on Davis Islands (which I now know is plural, even though it doesn't sound right), then ran the shorter loop. For the second loop, another runner from the Sharks group, Leda, asked to join us as we were heading out. She was super friendly and agreed to run our pace, which had remained just under an average 10min/mi. But as soon as I started, I could tell I wasn't going to keep that pace. I tried, and I hung in there for a couple miles, but I slowly started lagging behind while Nicole and Leda chatted comfortably ahead. I could tell they were trying to slow down for me, but I just wanted them leave me to my suffering (yes, it felt that dramatic!). Eventually Leda parted to finish her mileage via a different route, and Nicole and I trudged along until we had about a half-mile left, and she picked up her pace. I normally would have, too, at that point, but I had nothing left. Nicole even ran an additional .6 miles, but I stopped right when I hit 16 miles and walked the rest of the way in. I was just glad to be done.
Tim was waiting for me at my car, and he was in rough shape, too, having just completed his second 20-miler (with a sprouting IT band injury). We were a pretty sad sight with his limping and my legs buckling. We hobbled to the car, then from the car into the gas station for ice and back into the car, then home for ice baths. (Sitting down after a difficult run like that makes it all the more difficult to get back up.) I did manage to make a proper ice bath this time, and it helped a little bit. This was the first Saturday in a while, it felt like, that I didn't have something on my calendar to do right after my long run. So I milked the free time for all it was worth, lying in bed, snacking, watching scuzzy TV. It was glorious.
Later that evening, we had plans to go to the Summer of Rum Festival. This seemed like a great festivity to partake in after working hard that morning, but we forgot about couple of factors that were not in our favor: (1) we don't like crowds, (2) we'd been up since around 4:00 a.m., and (3) we also don't like lines. After waiting in four crowded lines, we got our first drink (we were both pretty grumpy). I ordered a Mai Tai, which I'd never had before, but it sounded good. However, this drink was about 90% alcohol, and I don't like to actually taste the alcohol in mixed drinks. Luckily, Nicole and two other friends were there, so I gave my drink to Nicole after we met up with them. The next drink we got was from the frozen drink stand, but the frozen drink machines weren't working properly, so the bartenders were pouring the liquefied frozen drink mixes over ice. As one friend put it, "it taste[d] like a popsicle." I gave up after that. Tim got one more, to make use of the drink tickets we'd already purchased, and I think he got a good one in the end. But we were all pretty much over the event by then and decided to bail and head to Fly Bar for some food and a night cap. And then I needed to go to bed, like pronto. It hit me fast and hard.
I rested on Sunday and didn't run again until Monday evening, when I did six miles. I started out at a decent pace with Tim, then we joined up with his dad, and slowly our pace fell a bit. It was largely my doing, I think. Now I'm not used to running in the evenings, and I can't maintain the pace I start out with. The same thing happened last night, for nine miles. Actually, the first few felt good, but gradually my pace fell by nearly a minute by the end of my run. I was fighting for those last couple of miles. That run cemented my decision to do lower-mileage long run this weekend; my other option was to try to squeeze in a second 20-miler, which would allow me to do a third in a few weeks. But I now know that's not what I need for this training. My body is telling that pretty loudly. So I'll just appreciate all of the work I've put in, take it easy this weekend, and try to pick up some momentum next week, when I'll have six more weeks of training left, three of which will be taper weeks! Now THAT is something to look forward to ;-)
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