The Broad Running Broad

I have some catching up to do on my Carmel training. Well, catching you guys up.

Two weekends ago a planned 12-mile run turned into 15, since I didn’t commit to firm route plans and was having fun on a frigid but sunny day. However, I made a call prior to the run that turned out to be a dumb idea.

To preface this, my run was a Sunday, and the preceding Thursday was when the news about Laken Riley broke. What that poor woman went through horrible and senseless, and I feel for her family having to carry the heartache with them for the rest of their lives.

Now the dumb move on my part – I had turned my phone off before my run.

I carry my phone in my flip belt, and when it’s on and bouncing along with me on the run, it’s pretty common for me to pouch dial various contacts. Then I have to deal with the phone call once I’m done about “did you know you called me?” So that weekend I decided to leave my phone off. I texted Mom to let her know my phone was off and I would text her once I was back.

However, Mom was under the impression that the phone would be off for two hours. It was closer to the three. In light of the Laken Riley news, she was worried and I didn’t help matters once I called her back. We were ultimately fine, and I got the message loud ‘n clear: phone must stay on.

Following my 15-miler was two-a-days, running twice daily on Tuesday and Wednesday. The original plan was to run a two-a-day Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, which would give me 18 total miles and get that yearly mileage up to 100 before March 1st. I also had my mom coming out to spend March 1st-3rd with me, so I knew a long run wouldn’t be happening (which I was fine with.)

I completed 12 over Tuesday and Wednesday, but by Thursday I was spent. Muscles I forgot existed were aching and my body was telling me that I was an idiot.

So the final six miles happened Sunday afternoon once Mom went home. This turned out to be the better idea, as it was unseasonably warm, sunny and marvelous. I even ran in a sports bra, which I generally never do, and got the first tan lines of the year in March. Which never happens in Ohio.

Now we’re on to this past week. I ran five miles before work on Tuesday and felt great. Then I discovered when it was time to leave for work that my car battery was dead, so that was a frustrating discovery and an unplanned work from home day.

Tuesday evening was a planned leg night. I made it to the gym and Leg Night was going well until it wasn’t. I think I jumped into the Bulgarian split squats and lunges too quickly, as my right knee popped. It was loud, and it hurt pretty badly. I was able to walk home and there was no swelling or any symptoms of a serious injury, but for the next two days, I babied that knee and was trying to get myself in okay shape for Thursday morning’s run, assuming I would be able to do it.

Thursday morning came. A combination of aspirin, elevation and an Epsom salt bath did the trick. I ran five of the six happy miles Thursday morning with no knee pain. But then during that last mile, my body decided we really needed to use the bathroom. You know that feeling when an invisible force sucker punches you right in the gut? That’s what I battled in the last mile during my walk-run-shuffle of shame.

I made it home in one piece and with my dignity intact.

Unfortunately I was late for work on my in-office day. This prompted me to consider switching up my running schedule for this upcoming week, which I am definitely going to do because nobody has time for, well, what I went through.

Then there was my long run yesterday, 16 miles out ‘n back. After the week I had, I knew I could go the distance, but whether I could go the distance without my knee or my guts working against me was still to be determined. So late morning I arrived at the trail head for my three-hour run, texted Mom where I was parked and let her know I’d message her at the turnaround point, put the phone in my pouch, pressed start on my watch and headed north.

Reader-friends, that 16 miles was easy. Shockingly easy, and fun.

The trail I ran was the same one I used to pick up when I was training for Pelotonia two summers ago, and it turns out you can discover so much more on foot than on bike. I forgot how many parks with playgrounds the trail backed up to, so there were plenty of kids and families out enjoying their day.

At exactly an hour and a half I got to my halfway point and texted Mom as promised. Then it was time for the trip back.

16 miles completed in 3:02:53. Average pace – 11:26 minutes per mile. Some days that pace can feel sluggish and heavy, but yesterday I felt light, free and strong.

And the most important thing from this past week – and especially yesterday – was the realization that I will in fact be okay for Carmel in a month.

I am okay.

Running is one of those sports that no matter how long you do it and how many marathon training cycles you put yourself through, there will always be that little voice nagging you in the back of your head that you really can’t or shouldn’t be doing this. You’re getting old and your body is changing, so maybe you should hang it up. You’re not very fast, so what’s the point? Marathons are hard on the body, why are you doing this to yourself?

And yet there I was on yesterday’s run feeling great, feeling strong and shushing every stupid voice that likes to pipe up from time to time.

I am okay, and I’m going to be okay when I cross from the corral over the starting line on April 12th.

So Reader-friends, I know today was a longer post, and I had a lot to say. I appreciate you all who check in and have stayed with me over the years. May you have a peaceful Sunday and a great week ahead.

Yours in running and life,

Allison