Somehow, last week, I did not lay down a single mile. I am not sure if this has ever happened in my running career aside from when my doctor cut me off while I was pregnant with my son and while recovering from birth. Life just got in the way. Specifically, a pink eye infection ran rampant through my house (which is another story for a parenting blog I have yet to launch tentatively titled “That Time We All Got Pink Eye from my Niece’s Shit”).
Yet the half marathon looms just two weeks away. When we lined up for the Revel, I felt ready; I felt trained up. Unfortunately, that training fell unconsummated. Now I feel horrendously far from that.
However, we hit the trail hard last night. When we set sneakers on the pavement, we intended an 8 mile second of our downhill practice run.
The run ended up being a strange blend and blur of running states. Initially, I felt revitalized by being back out in the increasingly crisp evening air, felt at home back on the run. That gave way to feeling every day off and every missed run in early aches and pains in my muscles and joints. Then I coasted on a gracious float. Then I tumbled right into an exhausted wall. Then I ascended into another float. It was a schizophrenic internal battle every mile.
Then it turned out we did not do our research well and actually selected a 10 mile section. The addition was unexpected, especially for our running mate who had previously only run a 6 mile stretch before.
In the end, despite my internal struggles, the run felt AMAZING! After my conclusion sprint, I was completely cashed and flying high. Plus I felt much better with a 10 mile practice run over an 8 mile, much closer to the 13.1 we are facing.
It hurt, but it was good to start back into the rhythm. I have to stop fucking around. I have to kick the running into gear. It is the redemption half marathon then three races in October (including Cripple Creek and a 10 miler). I am booked on races until New Year’s.
My first week off breastfeeding has not gone well. I have been crazy sick, feeling like I am pregnant. I spent the 10 mile run nauseous with heartburn and cramps all appearing and vanishing randomly. I have just felt exhausted and ill, assumably from changing hormones. Hopefully from changing hormones that will pass. Then my poor breasts are like heavy boulders waiting for the milk to dry up. I have been counting down to this day for over a year, yet I still don’t feel free. And I have also put on weight and fat in this week, so it seems like all the more of a slap in the face.
But onward. More slow miles. More healthy moderate eating. More dance. More (ugh) strength and lifting.
I am walking a 5K with my family this month; then my daughter is joining me for a series of 5Ks (doing the associated kid run) in October, November, and December. I am excited to share this fitness with my family, especially to bond with my daughter with it.
Two survivors search the ruins of America for the last strain of humanity. Marcus believes they are still human; Parker knows her own darkness. Until one discovery changes everything.
Beatrix woke up in a cage. Can she survive long enough to escape, or will he succeed at breaking her down into a possession?