Marathon Training - Week 10 Wrap Up

Aug 20th-Aug 26th ~ 23.7 Miles

Day 65 ~ Breakaway Bardog 5k (3.1 - 10:00 pace)
Day 66 ~ WRWM Coaching (2.78)
Day 67 ~ Rest (Doc's Orders)
Day 68 ~ Base Miles (6 miles)
Day 69 ~ Rest
Day 70 ~ Rest (Red Robin DGB Burger with Fries and Onion Rings for Fuel)
Day 71 ~ Long Run (12 miles)

FOOD PREP MEAL -  Cold Spicy Thai Shrimp Bowl

After running really hard Sunday, then obligations that kept me from resting on Monday, I decided to skip the extra-curricular gym activities this week, and just let the anti-inflammatories do their job. I continued going to the chiropractor as ordered as well. So there's not much meat in the way of physical activity this week. I will say that thanks to the rest and actually listening to my body, I had a stellar run Saturday morning (after I got past the mental part of it, which I will talk about in a minute.)

I changed my strategy this weekend on my long run. In the past, I've done the long runs with a quarter mile run interval/one minute walk interval. I thought my running too hard during that quarter of a mile was the reason I was finding myself so exhausted, and I think that might've been part of it, but I'm also thinking it had more to do with all the stopping.

A co-coach of mine was telling the beginner women that slowing down to the point your heart-rate drops significantly essentially makes your body have to warm up all over again, and that will tire you fast. So I marinated in this thought for a little while and I adjusted my own run. It paid off. I didn't skip or shorten a single interval. I'm thinking next time I get on the pavement for a long run, I might even try one mile run/one minute walk. I know I'm capable. I've run nine miles without stopping before. But I also want to be smart and find whatever is going to work for me come game day. I. Must. Finish. Failure is not an option.

I've also found that I might have a little superstitious side when it comes to night before fueling. My best half marathon time ever (2:22) was fueled by Red Robin. I'm not even kidding. The first time I met my 2:30 half marathon goal (2:29 in Greenwood, MS.) I'd fueled with Red Robin. Call me crazy, but I see a trend. I'm laughing as I type this, by the way. I had zero stomach issues. Even Saturday I was 100% comfortable for 90% of the run. Sooo... what was up with the other 10%, you might ask? It was all mental.

So, I'm going to go ahead and put this out there, because talking about it face-to-face with people doesn't work. It makes me all watery-eyed and I HATE being all watery-eyed. But I am very lonely. Incredibly lonely. Not because I don't have awesome, supportive people in my life, but because I'm looking for something that I lost when I moved away from Mississippi. I have a best friend down there. She's the kind of best friend I have my own language with, one who can finish my sentences and relate to me on even the most unrelatable level. She's the one who I can absolutely share my space with and enjoy every second of it. She doesn't run. When I say I'm going to run, she's like "Okay, you do that, Pookie. I'll be right here." And that's totally okay with us because she knows I love running and she loves me and that's all that matters. I rely on her. I know I can rely on her. I know if I say "Pookie, I need you, get your ass up here," she'll do everything in her power to make that happen.

I didn't realize how badly I needed a running "Pookie" until Saturday. The 19th, I ended up running the last two miles fighting tears because I was alone. It made the entire run miserable. Saturday, I spent the first two miles of the run in that same headspace. I was ready to say screw the marathon, screw the training. I wasn't going to do it anymore. I was prepared to turn around, go back to my car, and never show my face in the running community ever again. Honest to God, had Rich and Julianne Tutko not been there with big, warm hugs when I came running up to the next turn, I would have marched my ass across the intersection and gone back to my car. Nothing sucks worse than trying not to cry while trying like hell to breathe. It's scary. I've never hyperventilated before, but I imagine it's just as scary.

I say all the time that I'm a solitary person, that I don't need people, and for the most part, I still consider it true, but it's hard to feel like you're on the outside of a "tribe" you're supposed to be a part of. I've been finding that when I'm out on these long runs, I feel very much like I'm an outsider trying to fit in. That's when I need my Pookie. I don't need a group of people who smile and ask "how're you doing?" just to make small talk. I need someone I can look over at and ask "am I going to fail" when I get in that bad headspace, and have them tell me "hell no, you're a beast." That's what I'm missing. Unfortunately, there's not too many people who want to get up before dawn on a Saturday and follow me for distances in the double digits just to tell my crazy ass I'll be okay.