Running Diaries: Missing My Stride

No one ever said running was easy. I not only get that, I embrace it. It's one of the many things I love about running--that dig-deep-gut-it-out-get-it-done feeling that comes with pushing myself through a really hard workout. 

But something's wrong. I've been struggling with my runs lately, even the easy recovery runs. Where normally I loosen up and hit my stride within the first mile, lately my legs stay weighted throughout the entire run. My lungs are fine but my ankles, of all odd things, are killing me. Both of them. They're stiff and inflexible and ache with each step. 

There are a few different things that could be affecting my running: 

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Who's The Real Runner?

There's a disturbance of the FORCE within the Harris household. While it's taken for granted that I am the "runner" in the family, anyone paying attention these days would have to question whether my spot as "all-that-and-a-bag-of-chips" is being usurped by one laid-back CPA-type named Blair Harris. 

Blair started running last year as a way to maintain his weight loss and stay healthy. He doesn't get the same joy out of running I do--which makes me sad--but he sticks with it. He's been running 3 days a week consistently for months and has recently increased his mileage and (though he refuses to admit to it) his speed. 

What's embarrassing to face is that while I'm a faster runner than Blair, he's actually a better runner than me.

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Savannah Marathon: The (Meltdown?) Countdown Begins

It's a funny thing, training for a marathon. During the long summer months of intervals, tempo runs, and long runs, you kind of lose sight that at some point it's all going to culminate into you having to stand at a start line and face down 26.2 miles. You know in the back of your mind that, "Yeah, I'm doing this training run so someday I can run really fast and be in a lot of pain for a long time while I do it," but the reality of what you're attempting doesn't really sink in until about a week before your race.

It is a week before my race. 

Next Saturday I'll join 22,999 other runners at the start line for the Savannah Rock'N'Roll Marathon/Half-Marathon. As usual, I'm equal parts excited and freaked out. 

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Running When You Don't Feel Like It

I don't want to run today. Not "I don't want to run now," or "I'm tired," or even, "I'm too busy to run." I just quite simply don't want to run. The very thought of even putting on my shoes is crushing. I've told myself that the rain has stopped and the cool temperatures and overcast sky make for ideal running conditions. I've also considered that today's tempo run--while a long one at 8 miles--is only at race pace, so it's not like I have to head out the door and kill myself, trying to hold some God awful 7 minute something pace. 

I'm not having it. I have made up my mind. I. Don't. Want. To. Run. 

Of course, I'll run anyway. It's too late in the week to give myself the day off. I've got 20 miles this Saturday (the LAST 20-miler of the training--WHOO HOO!!) and so I need to take Friday as a rest day. That means that, like it or not, the tempo run is happening today. 

I think of it as a mental toughening. There are some race days where, regardless of the countless hours spent on the road, you line up at the start line and think, "I am not feeling it today." Guess what? Too bad. Run anyway. You may not have a great run, but you will run. 

That's what I'm facing today. I'm not feeling it. It's probably not going to be a good run. I may not make it the entire 8 miles or hold pace but guess what? Today I am running. 

The hardest step is always the first one. Time to go lace up those shoes. 

Update on Thursday, October 13, 2011 at 12:18 PM by Dena Harris

Well now, don't I feel foolish. I ran on the treadmill and had a great run. Only ran 7, but I ran faster than pace and added a 2% incline, so I'll forgive myself the last mile. Once I started, I knew after the first half mile I was going to have a good run. So see, another reason to get out there and run... you never know which days are going to be your good ones. 

Smug Marrieds: Words of Encouragement

Last night at dinner Blair says, "You need to go back and read your blog entry."

"Which one?" I ask. 

"September 19th." 

"Why?"

"Because that's where you talk about finding your new running mantra of 'I don't stop when I'm tired, I stop when I'm finished.'"

"And...?"

"And you didn't do that at Salem Lake."

"Well that's pleasant," I say. "Would you like me to just bend over so you have a better target for when you kick me again?"

"In fact," Blair said, ignorning me, "Your new mantra should be something like (and here he raised his voice to his high-pitched "Dena voice"), 'I don't stop... unless I get kind of tired or out of sorts or it's, like, really hard or maybe I'm having a bad hair day.'" He took a bite of food and smiled at me. 

"What the hell?" I ask. "Did you drink a bottle of mean juice today?"

"I just think you should be careful of false advertising." 

Actually, I thought of that mantra over and over during the Salem Lake run. I also decided around mile 12, pretty much like Blair said, that I was getting myself a new friggin' mantra. I had a few in mind but I think now I'm going to go with something like:

"Run. Just to show the husband he's not right." 

Cheers,

Dena