32k this morning! I set out at an early hour, snow in the air, wind cold on my cheeks. But I warmed up eventually and enjoyed the sun on the ocean, the sparkling blue. Even the snowflakes, as they swirled around me, never seeming to amount to anything on the ground were pretty. Even at the end of March.
10k down. 20k down. Two miserable disgusting Gu gels packs (choked) down. And then the pain set in.
I’ve been having some trouble with my leg. A weird sore spot in the middle of my quad. It’s not knee or hip pain, but I can’t seem to stretch it and can’t seem to shake it. An easy 6k yesterday felt fine, and I thought maybe it had gone away as mysteriously as it had come.
But at 21k it came back with a vengeance, eventually spreading through my entire quad and into my hip. Remember how I mentioned the last 7k of my run is uphill? I stopped and stretched (to no avail), ran for a couple of minutes and then pulled my phone out of my pocket and called my husband. He picked me up at 28.5k.
I climbed into the car and tears sprang to my eyes. Because dammit!
He reminded me that bad runs are part of it, that bad runs are what makes marathon training so hard. That I am so close I could reach my goal already, I just need to concentrate on avoiding injury. That I’m not injured, just sore. I know. I know, I sniffed. But still, dammit.
He filled the tub for my ice bath in our kids’ bathroom. And he took their bath crayons and wrote on the walls:
And then I really cried.
This was my first really hard run, where I battled both physical pain and mental walls. This was the first run that I’ve questioned how on earth I’m going to make it to 42.2. This is the first time I’ve wondered if maybe I can’t do it.
I guess what I love about this is also what I hate about it. I love being able to push myself farther, but I hate having to push myself farther. Does that make any sense at all? I love the feeling I’m left with, but hate having to accept pain and self-doubt as a part of the equation. In a way, I wish it were easier. But if it were, I know that it wouldn’t mean nearly so much to me.
So, next Friday I’ll aim for 32k again. Because that’s what this lesson is about: failing, crying, and then getting up and trying again.
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I’ve had those. And I know there’s nothing any of us can say to make you feel better (though good try, hubby! Although victory is sweet all by itself, really.).
BUT, something good came out of it – If you weren’t questioning how on earth you’ll run 42.2 (which you absolutely will, by the way), then you are probably not respecting the distance. A little fear is healthy!
Thanks for posting this. I’ve had runs/moments like that and it’s reassuring to know that others do as well. I haven’t run further than 24km yet, and am a little scared.
You can do it!
Thanks, guys 🙂
Karen, it’s true about respecting the distance. Maybe I needed to be humbled.
Tina, I think every runner has those moments. They’re what make us stronger. I hope you keep us posted on how your km’s increase 🙂