Monday: I should know better than to run the day after my long run. Actually, I do know better than to do that, but it was warm and sunny out and the forecast called for cold/rain/wind the rest of the week, so I couldn't pass up the chance to run outside again. And fortunately, neither could Mr. R&R. We headed out on tired legs for a very easy 3 miles. I really love running with him because he has absolutely no interest in listening to what I've started referring to as "the bullshit voice". The bullshit voice is that little voice inside my head that is always saying things like: 'This pace is too fast.' 'It's okay to walk for a little while.' and 'I can't do this.' It's quite simple: If I want Mr. R&R to run with me, I have to tell the bullshit voice to shut. the. %@#!. up - or at least do my best to ignore it.
The first 2 miles were run at a really easy pace, which was a very good thing since my legs were still sore from the previous day's 5 miler and we were running into a pretty strong headwind. I consoled myself in the last quarter mile leading up to the 2 mile mark that all I had to do was make it up the hill to the turnaround and then the last mile would be mostly downhill/flat and there'd be a nice tailwind. No sooner did we turn around than the wind switched directions and that tailwind I'd been anticipating became a headwind and Mr. R&R picked up the pace! Let me tell you - the bullshit voice, which had been pretty quiet, started shouting. It was saying things like: 'I really need to walk a little.' and 'This is miserable. I don't want to be doing this.' I could have whined at Mr. R&R and he'd probably have slowed down a little, but I didn't want to do it. I wanted to prove that I could suck it up and hang in there - after all, a big part of racing (especially short distances like the 5k) is learning to suffer because it's over so fast - so I sucked it up and stayed on his shoulder as the pace on my Garmin continued to drop. By the end of the last mile, I was gasping for air, holding on for dear life, and doing my best to ignore the bullshit voice. The last mile was a 9:03! Take that bullshit voice!
Tuesday: My legs were a little creaky this morning, but that was to be expected after running 8 miles in two days after barely running at all in the last 6 months. It was also rainy and crappy out, so I hit the trainer for a 30 minute spin (while Mr. R&R did his workout) followed by 20 minutes of HardCore Abs. I learned a little lesson: Do the ab workout before the bike workout!
Wednesday: Rest Day. I spent my night off from running parked in The Mane Wrangler's chair, sipping red wine, and discussing the best way to keep my highlights from turning 'chlorine green'
Thursday: It was cold. It was windy. I ran anyway. Mr. R&R agreed to pace me through my first tempo run of the season (my least favorite form of speed work on the planet) so we set off at an almost too easy pace - and every so often, he'd pick up the pace a little. Around the 2 mile mark we reached the peak of the tempo (2 minutes at under race pace) and then slowly began backing the pace back down. By the time we were finished, I was pouring sweat and had the bullshit voice pouting in a corner.
Friday: I had dinner with Little Sister - just the two of us. We met up at a new-to-me restaurant called CoopersHawk Winery around 6pm. The wine was good, the food was average, the company was outstanding! I had initially planned on hitting The Cave when I got home, but that plan was made under the assumption that I would be home by 8pm. I didn't roll in the door until close to 9:30 and I was nearly asleep on my feet. Workout plans were scrapped and I hit the couch and fell asleep shortly thereafter.
Saturday: Um...yeah. Life happened, so not only did I not go to the pool, but I also skipped making up my missed time in The Cave. On a positive note, Mr. R&R and I had lunch at Ono Kine Grindz...and that never makes me unhappy.
Sunday: It was a warm(ish), sunny, beautiful day and I had 6 miles on tap. Mr. R&R joined me again (really liking this trend) and we took the first few miles easy, which is what you want to do on a long run, slowed down a little more for the fourth mile, and then cranked it up for Mile 5. That mile was tough on my body, but Mile 6 was just brutal on my mind. The bullshit voice was screaming at me. My body ached, my heart was pounding, and I gave in. I begged for a 30-45 second walk break to catch my breath/slow my heart rate - and then got really pissed off that I let that happen. When I started running again, I still felt like crap. My hip was getting sore, I felt like I was fighting for every breathe, and every time I looked at my Garmin, I could have sworn I was running much harder than I was. The bullshit voice flared up again and I actually started saying "shut up. shut up. shut up." out loud trying to beat it at its own game. It's probably a good thing Mr. R&R was with me, or I would have looked like a raving lunatic! The last mile was a fight, but I finished it...running. I know, intellectually, that not all runs go well, but I really hate when they feel harder than they should!
I closed out Week 2 with:
Swim: 0 yards
Bike: 9 miles (30 minutes)
Run: 12.12 miles (1 hour, 59 minutes)
Strength: 20 minutes
Total Miles: 21.17 miles
Total Time: 2 hours, 49 minutes
Next week will bring my first "tune up" race of the year. Now the burning question is: Race with music or without? What do you think?