I wish I had seen this yesterday morning. I was due for 12 miles on the ol’ training schedule yesterday. Well, if I’m honest, I was supposed to do it last week, with this week and next week only having 4 miles on the long run day. Since we were still away from home, I postponed it. No big deal. I didn’t need two short weeks anyway.
But I goofed. I felt really weird on Monday morning, so I pushed my maintenance runs to Tuesday and Thursday. Then, I decided to go ahead with the long run on Friday without a rest day beforehand. Add to that the fact that I slept HORRIBLY on Thursday night. Our room gets too hot at night. I’m pretty sure it hinders good sleep, but we can’t figure out how to fix it, short of opening the window and letting too-cold air in.
I wasn’t pumped when I started my run, and I had a time limit. I drop Neely at school at 9:00 and have to pick her up by 11:30. By the time I got on the treadmill, it was 9:10. I knew I’d need to stop by 11:10 to cool down, stretch, and allow myself to remove the snow from my car and still make it in time to get her. I dislike doing a long run on the treadmill. I’m never sure where to set the pace, and I always end up running slower than I should. So in two hours, I only made it to 10.5 miles. It’s crazy, considering that when I ran 10 miles before Christmas, on the track, I finished in 1:45. It was discouraging. I did what I could, but the anxiety of trying to finish with a deadline nearly did me in.
Next time, I’ll have to do the long run in the evening when John can keep the kiddos, and I can take as much time as I need to.
I am thankful, however, that I didn’t feel nearly as bad as the first time I attempted 12 miles last March. I didn’t want to cry. I just felt tired, and stressed out. Life goes on. It wasn’t my best run ever, but at least it wasn’t my worst. I’ll do better next time.