Underhydrated Wall Hitter

Before I launch into the story of my less than stellar long run, I'd like to send congrats out into the blogverse for all of the Boston Marathon Finishers. Good job guys! I hope to one day join your ranks.

So yesterday was long run day and I put it off as long as I could. While I was laying in bed watching tv my legs suddenly started to hurt and I thought "I think my body's trying to tell me something. Maybe I shouldn't run today..." And you know people ALWAYS say you should listen to your body, right?! Nice try. After arguing with the angel on one shoulder and her nemesis on the other, I finally got up enough energy to change out of my pj's (at 6pm...it was kind of a lazy day) and into my running clothes. Since it was still warm out I figured I'd do this one on the treadmill despite all the positive feedback and encouragement I've been getting on running outside (that's for another day but I loved the feedback!). I brought some mixed cds to see if a change in music would jazz me up a bit. So I started out at just under an 11 min mile. I was feeling ok: legs were good, which was my main concern. But for whatever reason, the miles were a bit more difficult than I would have liked. I was having trouble finding my groove. Going into mile 3, Rufus Wainwright's Hallelujah came on and I picked the remote up to change the song. After a few seconds I decided to just listen to it because I hadn't heard it in a while. While I normally try to listen to faster, more peppy music, I found the piano and slower, melancholy but soulful ballad to be soothing. While the song was on I just ran along, enjoying the melody. I wasn't thinking about what hurt or what I had to do later or how far I was going to go. I just ran. Perhaps I should have put that song on repeat because shortly thereafter, things fell apart.

I had talked to Kev before I got on the tread and knew he'd be coming over sometime within the next 45 minutes, but probably sooner than later. Because of this, I kept turning around while I was on the treadmill (it's on my back patio - which is enclosed) to look through the sliding glass doors to try to catch him coming in. He loves to scare me and there are few things I despise more than being snuck up on, so it's a constant battle of the wills. Turning around every minute or two started getting distracting so I called him to find out exactly where he was so I could be prepared. We talked for a few and fortunately, I was able to catch him as he was silently slipping onto the back patio. Butthead. He talked to me for a few minutes and put in a new cd that he'd been telling me about. While all this was going on I suddenly became hyperaware of my insane thirst and bone-dry, chapped lips. Since I didn't have any ChapStick at my tread station, I had to just keep licking my lips, which was pointless because all it did was exacerbate the problem and make me think about how thirsty I was. Since I sometimes have problems with losing socks and then wearing mismatched sets, the sock on my right foot started slipping under my heel and was driving me crazy. At mile 3.4 I stopped to fix my sock and drink water. As I gulped the cold, glorious water I thought about how badly I wanted to stop. I knew it was a colossal mistake to stop but I ignored my better judgment. I told Kev to go ahead inside; that I was just going to finish the 4 miles and do a long run a different day. But as I approached 4 miles, I thought about how I really needed to do at least 6, if not 7 and just get it out of the way. So I decided to go for 6, but had visions of titling my next blog "Lucky 7" (not that there was anything lucky about it per se, I was just lacking creativity and/or catchphrases affiliated with the number 7) if I could somehow manage to last that long. For whatever reason, I just could NOT get my concentration back. I switched music up again and tried to focus on ANYTHING other than the fact that I had at least 2 miles left. I told myself to remember how easy the first two were; they just flew by; it was nothing. I trudged along, changing speed every few minutes (first up, then down, then up again, then down again, then down some more) and finally at 5.2 miles (55:02 minutes), I decided I'd had it. I stopped. I was so upset at myself because I've had to fight those feelings off several other times and was always able to talk myself into continuing. But I was too distracted and absolutely could not get back into the right head space to continue. Ridiculous. I do much better running when I'm just left alone without distractoin. Somehow though, I wasn't as pissed at myself as I would have thought. I'm just going to try to use it as a lesson: either learn how to deal with distractions and how to keep your head in the game, or run on a hamster wheel forever with no contact from the outside world. Easy as pie. Oh, and I need to drink more water prior to running...and get water bottles with straws or the nipply thingies.

Later this week I am going to go outside for a run. I'm excited about it. I think I'm going to just run for 30 or 40 minutes and see how I feel. I figured it'd be better to try running outside for a short run. I'll let you know how it goes (obviously). :)