I’ve been hesitant to write about my running. It’s been going so well lately but I feel like I am teetering on the edge of overtraining/injury and if I pay too much attention to it, I’ll fall in to that pit of despair.
My foot has felt fine for the past week, not a twinge since it flared up two weeks ago. My right shin has been giving me some trouble (just your normal, run-of-the-mill shin splints, I’m sure) but once I warm up it no longer hurts and it has been noticeably less irritate each day.
I’m so afraid of jinxing myself that each morning I run, I think about what I want to write about that day but I don’t end up doing it for fear of saying out loud, “Wow, things are awesome!,” which is exactly how I was feeling before my foot started hurting last fall and I was out of commission for two months. Fear does funny things.
This morning I had a scheduled 8 mile run that went so spectacularly well and I’ve felt so great all day, I can’t help writing about it. I’m so proud of my run this morning.
I took it slow to warm up over the first mile and then I let myself run faster. I was looking for a comfortable but fast pace that I could hold over 7 miles (as opposed to last Wednesday’s 8-miler that I ran two miles to fatigue, 2 miles to recover and 2 miles to fatigue again, in the middle of a one mile warm-up and one mile cool down). Last week’s hard 2 mile intervals were in the 8:30 pace range and I was looking to get in the 10:00 pace this morning.
To my surprise, I was close to 9:30 on the first fast mile and I kept hitting this range over and over again as I ticked off the miles. I felt so solid at this pace. It was wonderful. I was cruising up hills and flying down the other side. I was stealthily gliding along the dark morning as the sun came up slowly over the horizon and I was there to challenge it to a foot race.
Consistently hitting under 10 minute miles is quite an achievement for me. When I started running, I could barely reach 12 minute miles when I was on the treadmill and I was hitting a consistent 12:00 pace throughout training for my first marathon two years ago. Now look at me; I’m in the single digit pace range!
Just like the final mile of the half marathon I ran over the weekend, I wanted to see how much I really had left in my legs after so many miles at a fast pace and gave it everything I had for mile 8. Approximately halfway through that final mile, I began struggling to maintain focus and started repeating, “Just keep it going. Just keep it going.,” to myself, over and over again. I completed that final mile in 8 minutes 40 seconds. Woooh, I’m so relieved!
I finished off the run with a slow half mile cool down.
I’m still hoping I haven’t jinxed myself or my running but for now I’m shouting it from every proverbial mountaintop – BECKI LOVES TO RUN (and running appears to love Becki *fingers crossed*).
Today's Daily Dozen
8.5 miles - 7 at Marathon Pace (or faster)
