I like to keep it real around here, so if you’re looking for an uplifting post today, look elsewhere. This ain’t gonna be it. (The running update comes toward the end. All the other is to describe my state of mind.)
Last week, to put it bluntly, sucked. When it rains, it pours, and boy, did it. On Sunday evening, I got to spend a few hours at the only urgent care facility in town with my eldest, who had busted his head open on the mailbox. He ran full-speed into it. And there was nothing else around. Mind-boggling. To make it even more fun, I entertained impatient phone calls from my husband throughout the experience, because he needed to put in some extra hours at work and was eager to get back.
It was bedtime for the kids when we got home, but as I settled in to relax, I noticed a call I’d missed in all of the hullaballoo of getting them both in their beds. It was a call I should probably have known to expect soonish, but it caught me off-guard anyway. One of my closest high school and college friends’ father had passed away. Cue grief.
Monday passed in a funk. Bad news really gets me down. And as always, it somehow brought other, completely unrelated problems to light.
The memorial service was scheduled for Thursday. My husband is working 20 hour days. I have a child in school. I couldn’t pull him out of school for three days to travel to Tennessee. Cue guilt. Major guilt. I am still feeling major guilt. I wanted to be there so badly. I just can’t seem to get past the darn GUILT.
On Wednesday, I locked myself out of the house…wearing a tank top and shorts that I would never wear in public. And I was without shoes. And it was about to rain. Luckily, I found one neighbor at home, who was kind enough to let me borrow clothes and call a locksmith for me. Two and a half hours later and $75 lighter, I was able to get back into my house. I was an hour and a half late picking Neely up from preschool. And here’s another helping of guilt for imposing on the ladies who took care of her until I showed up. Note to self: memorize more people’s phone numbers. They were all stored on my cell, which was inside the house.
Through everything, I still managed to keep up with my training plan. I’m not sure how, short of a miracle. Friday, I had a 12-mile run on the schedule. I didn’t have a good feeling about it. Nothing had gone well for the rest of the week, and this was no different.
It was warm and sunny out, but we had a lake wind advisory in effect. The weather report said to expect wind gusts up to 17 miles per hour. They weren’t kidding. Only it didn’t really feel like gusts. It felt constant. I almost bailed on the run before I even started, but I decided to give it a go, in case it’s really windy on my actual race day.
By the time I’d run 7 miles, I was done. I had worked so hard against the wind that it felt like I had run much farther. I wanted to plop down on my butt and cry. If I hadn’t been 5 miles from my truck, I might have. I walked a little bit and tried to start back running. I didn’t make it very far. I walked some more, thinking that if I caught my breath really well, I could finish it out. I finished, but there was lots of walking involved. I felt like a complete failure when I was done. Up to this point, I’ve been able to run the entire distance of each of my long runs.
The only thing that made me feel a little bit better was my time. Three weeks ago, I ran 10 miles in 1:45. Last weekend, I ran 12 miles in 2:30. (Crazy slow!) On Friday’s run, I finished the 12 miles in 2:22, with all the walking. I’m hoping for better this week – weather, time, luck, everything.