1. If I had written this post on Sunday, it would have been catching up on this blog.
2. I caught up on some drawing which was great.
3. I played "catch-up", or "don't lose them" with Casey and Greg on our 6 mile run.
We set out to do 6 miles in some very windy but sunny weather on Sunday. When we had trained* for the half marathon back in the fall, I couldn't really keep up with Casey and Greg. They waited for me sometimes...other times I just watched a gap grow, all the while struggling (a lot) mentally and physically. And my slow pace, which kind of dictated the runs' pace, was not good for either of their knees and ankles.
So, needless to say, before our 6 on Sunday I was a bit nervous, but also determined. I was determined to stay with them as long as I could. That was my plan. I would just f-ing run. Just go. Just keep moving and get through it no matter how crappy I felt. I want to run with people dammit. I miss it so much. I was nervous that I wouldn't be able to do this for longer than a half mile or so, and that I wouldn't be able to train with them because it just wouldn't work.
We started out and the little hill just outside the neighborhood sapped me a bit, like hills do. (I really need to figure out how to work on this). I had no idea what our pace was, but I just kept looking ahead and kept my steps quick to keep the pace. It got hard. Any slight incline would send my breathing into a sprinting rate: In-out-in-out, all too fast. And I had the fun allergy hack going on here and there as well. I have gotten pretty good at timing my coughs and sucking in wind through whatever is in my lungs so that it doesn't throw off my breathing too much. But it is difficult. We turned onto a road that at its end would be our turn around, and I was hurting. By the time we were at the end, I had to stop. Casey said we were at 10's. Fuuuuuuuuuuck. 10s. 2.5 miles at 10s and I felt like I was in a goddamned race. I was so disappointed in myself. Casey and Greg both assured me I was doing great. But it was so hard for me to accept my reality.
I decided I would keep trying to keep up with them, realizing I would have to take breaks every so often, and hoped they would be OK with that. This was only 2.5 miles. It was only going to get harder. I hoped Casey wouldn't back off the pace out of pity. I just wanted to see what would happen. And I wanted to be able to keep the run good for everyone. I thought about spinning and pushing in class. And I thought about broomball and how hard I breathe during that with no break. Surely those things are making me better. I could keep going here. I even used some yoga mantra a few times. I am a runner. I am strong. This is what you want. I am a runner...
We continued on and found a lost dog, Falco. That added a big break in the middle of the run before we were off again after delivering him to his owner. At one point we were on a road with the wind at our backs and I felt really strong and smooth. It was awesome, a taste of how running used to feel most of the time. Again, no concept of what pace we were at, but I felt like I should take advantage of the smoothness and go as quick as comfortable. I'm not sure if we sped up or not. A bit later there were more hills, and with my breathing already maxed out, my legs just gave up after this and I had to stop again to catch my breath. Then we were in a home stretch of sorts...just over a mile to go. More slight hills and wind, I stopped briefly a couple more times. I tried to push as much as possible, while listening to sounds come out of me that I wasn't familiar with. I sounded horrible. Casey stuck with me the final stretch, which was very helpful, and my body went a bit tingly as I saw my car indicating the finish.
I'm pretty sure I had nothing left at the end. I sat down for a bit - it just sounded good. Then we walked. We totalled 6.2 miles with an average of 10:15 miles.
Casey pointed out to me earlier that when we had been training together for his first half, we didn't do our long runs at this pace - they were more like 10:40s. But he also had a lot of knee problems running that slow. I don't think it was his natural pace. Today he and Greg both said that the 10ish pace felt good. So unless they were lying about it, I'm really happy that this was OK for them. By all things I've read and practiced, a long run is OK to be a minute to a minute and half slower than your pace. So 10s would be about right for those 8:30-9:00ish guys I suppose.
For me, I am elated that I got through it all. That was the best 6 mile effort I've ever done. I have never ran that long at that effort before in my life. I think I was so motivated to make the run work for everyone that I finally learned how to push in running. I was totally mentally OK with pushing as hard as I could for as long as I could to keep up, then take catch my breath breaks when I needed. I suppose it isn't a conventional approach to the long run. But I don't care anymore. I'm throwing out everything and starting over. I'm just going to run faster so I can...run faster and have more fun.
And today...I'm not even that sore... My knees don't hurt at ALL. My lower outside calves were already sore from broomball and are still sore. But...that's it. So strange. Perhaps I'm on to something here.
* what we did wasn't really training and shall not be repeated again.
