Not much on the run front till today. Bailed on Monday run. Swam, water ran, and some water core on Tuesday.
Tonight was supposed to be 4K warm up, 6 K tempo, 4 K cool down. I was not feeling good about it. Normally I look forward to my runs. Not tonight. It started creaky, and the negative self talk went into high gear. Wondering if I'd even get to the tempo run part. Wondering why I was so foolish as to state in public I wanted to run a marathon at my age. Wondering if the things that were hurting at the end of the last run would start hurting again. Then it wasn't if, it was expecting them.
There was lots of work related stuff swirling around too, which didn't help. I forced myself to continue, saying that there's been lots of runs where the first 2 K were crap and it got better. Sure enough, the first 2 K were crap. So was most of the 3rd, then it started settling down. So far I've been running 7 minute K pace. Very clunky, very uneven pace, wobbling from side to side. Slow cadence. My legs felt very heavy. There was no spring in my step.
By 4 K I was chugging along, wondering if I could run any faster. After some debate I decided to at least try. If my body parts had taken a vote, it would have been nearly unanimous to turn around and walk home. I was wondering if I'd bitten off more than I can chew for training, or if I'd built up too fast.
So, the Tempo part. It should have been about 6 min per K pace or so. I barely got it up to 6:30. My lungs still weren't really working, but my legs were complaining. My brain was amplifying every bit of leg complaint, wondering how soon I could stop. Thinking about how much further it was to run. Thinking there was no way I was going to get through it. That first tempo K was 6:30.
Pushing hard, the next one was 6:22 and it was no fun at all. The plod was getting worse, and my stride was falling apart. The third was 6:41 and I was ready to call it quits. There was no way I could have turned around and run the course in reverse. I knew there was no way I was going to get the 14 K done, so why even continue?
I struggled on and it got worse. Of course it did. I was expecting it to. 7:27 and I was shambling like a drunk man. You'll note that pace is slower than what I warmed up at. This is what I was running the last several K at during my 24 K weekend run. Slow, clunky, plodding, and while it wasn't painful, it sure didn't feel good.
When I saw the pace for the last K I bailed out. 8K, 55 minutes, 6:52 pace overall. Bleah. There was a time when that would be a fast run, but not anymore.
There are always tough workouts. I knew there would be tough runs for this training. I was hoping I'd get through this work contract and be able to rest more. To some extent I've been burning the candle at both ends, and it's caught up to me the last little while.
I'm trying to keep firmly in mind that one bad workout does not a make or break the marathon, but parts of my brain were telling me it's all over. No point continuing. No marathon this year. Dial back, build base over the winter, maybe next year.
My mind was not a happy place at all. Normally by the end of a run I'm feeling better, what with all the fresh air and all that. Not today. I felt a little better after eating, but not much. I don't think it was a bonk thing. I'd had a good lunch and a midafternoon snack. It was just tired legs, weighed down with negative thoughts. I let the thought of 14 K get to me even before I started. I still sort of think of a 15 K run as a long run.
Right now the weekend 22 K run is looking like the better part of forever, but I'm going to rest up and bring a better attitude.