Humble Pie: Marathon Training Week VII

When I woke for VIII I knew I wasn't in a good place. I typically wake up exhausted but find myself overcome but a magnetic and exciting pull within minutes of knowing what lies ahead. But not that week. Not that day. Instead, I laid there. I didn't want to go.

Being comittied I rolled out of bed and went to the group run. Right from the start I knew I didn't want to be there but I thought it was all in my mind.  Turns out it wasn't.

The first 8 miles weren't horrible. I felt fine but I had a really hard time focusing. At mile 11 we stopped at the store and refueled. In just 11 miles I drank my entire 30 oz of nuun. I thought that was odd. It wasn't any hotter then any other day.

Moving on, Harley and I continued on and around mile 12 I was over come by nausea every time I ran. I literally dread every time my 1 minute walk was up. I tried to shake it out. But by mile 13 I just didn't think I could do it. I felt lethargic,  and sick when I ran. I stopped and sat on a bench and actually told Harley to go on and leave me.

I sat there, feeling bad for myself and looked at him in a distance running the reminder of the 22 mile course on his own. And that's when jealousy and pride kicked in. Within seconds I sprinted 100 feet calling for him. I just couldn't give up. This was the LAST big run.

 I'm usually rather talkative but I wasn't feeling it that day but I made myself engage in conversation despite my desire to just roll into a little ball and whine.

I am so lucky to have such a supportive running partner. I know I slowed him down, I know I wasn't the best company that very day. But I am thankful I had someone there that made me want to push though it. And I did...

I ran 22 miles. Despite slowing down several times our time was not off from our goal time.

When I finished I wasn't exhausted, I wasn't thirty, I wasn't hungry, I wasn't sore. I was just weird. I ate a banana just because... Again, this isn't normal for me. Typically I grab half a bagel and swallow it whole then jet to a bakery and bring home goodies for me and the Champ to indulge in.

But that day, I ate my banana and left. I didn't nap nor did have the desire to eat anything until 3:30 that afternoon. (about 4 hours post run).

There are a couple of things that may have affected my run:
I missed the previous weeks big run.
I went to DC for 6 days where my diet revolved wine and steak.

Diet, lack of training, just a bad day? I am not sure what went wrong.

But man, it sure did freak me out. I cant imagine that happening on race day and fingers and toes crossed it was a onetime thing. It sure made me appreciate the goods runs a lot more...

Have you ever experienced a bad run?
How did you get through it?