I started a post yesterday about my incredibly amazing training run on Thursday, but with all the craziness that is life in the fall, I never quite finished it (I think I got a sentence typed.) Today that post seems irrelevant. Today was an 18 miler. Dodd and I decided to run 18 miles of the marathon course, which was probably a great idea.
So I'm flying high from Thursday's run...where I ran 5 miles in 39:17 {that's a 7:51 pace, in case you don't want to do the math}. I have NEVER EVER EVER run more than 2 miles at an under 8:00 pace. I was so pumped ~ felt so strong ~ felt so unconquerable...
And then there were the last mile and a half of today's 18. It was sheer mental effort that kept me on my feet until my watch said 18. I feel like crying...because I don't know if I CAN do those last 8. I know I couldn't have done them today.
I knew this marathon thing was not to be taken lightly...but, honestly, I have had such great long runs...I had confidence that I could do it. After Thursday I started telling a few people that my goal was to be a BQ {3:55 for a 45 year old woman}.
I am pretty sure that I'm not going to do that, and I'm not so sure that I'll have a successful 26.2.
I hope it's a good thing that I'm becoming a little more realistic about this task...because I really just feel like crying at the futility of what I've set out to do.
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