The run started slowly with an 8:20 mile, but that’s not particularly out of the ordinary. I put in some surges over the next 2 miles, which is what I usually do to wake up the legs, but raised my eyebrows in puzzlement when 25 minutes had passed for the first 3 miles, which was the first faint sign of things going awry. That point marks the start of a series of climbs, and they happened to be all against an increasingly strong headwind, but it was always manageable. I reached the top of the last climb, and the highest point of the loop in 54 minutes, when my normal time is about 50 minutes. Then the road drops all the way down again, and when I crossed the Caragh River at Blackstones Bridge, about 9 miles into the run, I really started dragging. I was already on my slowest run in ages, and I was distinctly feeling out of energy. Things went downhill rapidly from here, apart from the road which was climbing again. By mile 12 I was feeling so sick and tired that I felt a huge urge to just curl up by the side of the road and fall asleep. Death by hypothermia isn’t a nice option, so I continued on, as bad as I felt. Even though I tried my best to put in some decent pace over the last few miles, I never got quicker than 8:00 pace, though the effort I had to put into those miles was huge. When I finally, finally reached our drive way I almost had to crawl, and I hardly had the energy to cook my breakfast afterwards, or eat it. When Niamh got up at 8 o’clock (4 hours after me) she took one look at me and sent me straight to bed, though with Shea in particular running riot, I didn’t really get any more sleep. Somehow I managed to cycle into work, but I don’t know how.
I freely admit it, I fucked up royally. I should not have been running that day, and definitely not 17 miles. I knew that I had been feeling low the day before, and should have opted for a series of smaller loops that would have given me the option of bailing out. I don’t think I did any damage to myself. The heart rate was quite low, as low as I would normally expect it to be for such a pace, but the gains from such a run were in no relation to the pain and effort I had to put in just to drag my sorry self safely back home.
If you haven’t done so already you will definitely give up hope for my sanity if I tell you that despite yesterday’s misery I went out again this morning. I guess it’s all relative. When I got up at 5 am, Niamh woke and her first thought was “oh good, for once he’s getting up at a reasonable hour”; it only dawned on her afterwards that it just seems reasonable compared to the time I had gotten up the day before (or 3 times the week before that, and the week before, and …). I had learned a bit of a lesson though; I ran three little loops, I ran a lot less and I would have gone back home early had I started to feel even remotely as bad as the day before. In fact I felt fine, but I was still slow. The heart rate again perfectly reflects the pace, but it had felt faster while on the run. I want those legs back that I used to have until last Thursday! One thought crossed my mind, namely that I might have been overdressed, with two layers on top again, but it’s still very windy outside, and at 5:30 am it just feels cold!
Will I run again tomorrow? Yes, but I’ll cap it at 10 miles. Will I run longer later in the week? I might, but even if I do I will definitely forego the Caragh Lake loop and run smaller segments, and if there’s trouble I’ll head back home.
Why?
I guess it’s what I do. I run for fun, and while the last two workouts weren’t exactly filled with joy, running stops me from indulging in other, potentially more destructive habits. I don’t want to stop running, because I don’t want to find out what I pick up instead.
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Update: Wednesday morning, 12 hours later. I have belatedly decided to stop being so stupid, and to stop trying to force the issue. I'm starting the cut-back week right now, and I'll run as little as I want, even *gasp* single-digit mileage, and I'll run as slowly as I feel like, without pressure from the watch.
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- 17 Dec
- 17 miles, 2:20:14, 8:14 pace, HR 139
death march. horrible. - 18 Dec
- 10 miles, 1:21:39, 8:09 pace, HR 139
including 12x100 strides
You know by now that it takes a few bad ones now and again to make you appreciate the good ones. Next time you're breezing along effortlessly (possibly even later this week) you can think about today and yesterday and just chuckle.
ReplyDeleteI agree with Mike. That said, with the holidays fast approaching and with your next big race still months away, there is no point in running yourself into the ground. Ask Mike pointed out to me a few weeks ago (he has sage advice at times), “there's certainly no shame in bagging a run, especially if it leads to a great one…”.
ReplyDeleteI've bagged more than my share as is well documented on my blog. I run a lot of slow miles now to help with the recovery process. Something I was missing from last winter before my crash. Maybe that will help.
ReplyDeleteI agree, we run for fun, it never must become a stress. After bad times come wonderful times.
ReplyDeleteBy the way I have the tickets for Croke Park, are the people in Dublin organizing the celebrations for the Black Knight's visit?
thomas, we have all been in the same situation in the past.running as in normal life has its share of ups and downs.
ReplyDeletewith rest i'm sure the good days will return.
enjoy your easy week and christmas.
If I was to be honest I would say that it sounds like you are overtraining. It is supposed to be fun - is getting up at 4 in the morning really fun? Why don't you havea complete break for a week or so over Christmas and see how you feel? Bet by the middle of January you'll be running really well and feeling good again.
ReplyDelete