11 Miles of #*$!, 10.3 of Heaven

Last Thursday, I planned to attempt 14 miles with my running buddy. Why? Well 10 miles was my longest run and 14 was a goal I had for before running the half marathon (just so I KNEW I could do it and then some).

Thursday morning we started our normal run and everything was fine. But around mile 8 I was hating life. By 9 my legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. By 10 I didn’t think I could take another step. I knew I had to hit at least my back up goal (11 miles, since 10 was my previous longest). About every other second I wondered if I could make 11 miles. When we stopped (and I said bye to my running buddy so he could finish his 20 mile run) I knew I couldn’t drive right away. I drank some water, stretched and stretched some more. I finally felt like I could drive home but overall I felt awful. All day I felt bad, couldn’t stay awake at my desk at work and generally hated everything. I made myself go out that evening and run 3 miles (even though it’s not the same, I did 14 for the day). 

Friday we did an easy 6 miles (partially in the rain) and it felt good. Saturday I took the dogs to the park and walked/jogged a couple miles. Sunday, I had a 7 mile run scheduled with a different friend of mine who is training for a marathon in November. 

I took her on the “run through the city” that I usually do with my running buddy and we had a nice 7 mile run. The weather was absolutely amazing (it felt like fall) and I was not drenched in sweat at the end of 7 miles (which is how I normally am). I actually felt like I could keep going. Well the running gods smiled down on me, because my running buddy (along with two of his coworkers) ran by at that exact moment. They had just gotten off of a 12 hour shift and were putting a few miles in before they went to bed. I jumped in on the chance to add a couple more miles to my day. A couple more turned into 3.3 and honestly I probably couldn’t done more (still wish I had kept going till it started to suck!). Those 10.3 miles felt amazing. They never felt hard or horrible or painful. It reminded me why I love running.

There’s a number of reasons those two runs might have felt very different – the weather being one. Me letting the mental game win could be another. Knowing I’m setting out to try for 14 vs. setting out for 7, feeling good and keeping on… my mind treats those very differently. I know I have to beat the mental game, but for now, I’m just going to be thankful for the glorious 10.3 amazing miles I had on Sunday.