I’m feeling kind of ‘eh’ about my running right now, so this might come off more negative than I want. With that being said I had a pretty good week last week and did some things I am proud of. My schedule got kind of out of whack too, but oh well.
Tuesday: 2 miles, quick in the rain
Wednesday: 3.5, 8:30 pace (felt super super fast, got down to 7:XX in the end)
Saturday: 2 X 5 miles, about 9:30 pace both ways, another mile or two downtown
Sunday: 4 miles, 9:09 pace
Total miles run: ~20ish
So. Last week. Stuff was happening during the week that kind of took my mind off running, but Saturday was the Mini marathon. The “nation’s largest half-marathon”, and it did not disappoint. We planned to run from the house to the Mini, spectate – watch Scott’s super fast teammates kick ass (and they totally did, I cannot believe their abilities) – then run home. We’re 5 miles from the start, so that is 10 miles total. I got all nervous leading up to it, thinking “Can I do it?” and “I don’t think I can do it.” “It’s going to be awesome!” “Can I do it?” Which, like…. I don’t know what I thought would happen. I’ll just fall over in the street and never take another step? No. That won’t happen. I might get slower and slower and slower and approach infinite slowness? No, again that won’t happen. I’ll make it home. And I did.
It was totally fine. And I barely ran the second 5 miles slower than the first, and still below a 9:30 pace. We also ran around the course getting from the start to the finish, adding maybe another 1 or two miles in. When will I stop doubting myself?!
Ok, obviously never, because today was Monon Tuesdays with the team and I was feeling all crap and chose to never even look at my Garmin during the run. It was warm, I was wearing long tights (?!) and I had some sloshy stomach thing going on. But when I finished and looked at my pace it said 9:08. I thought I was barely running 10 minute miles.
In other news, I’ve been eating a ton of fruit and vegetables and I think my digestive system likes it.