Yesterday morning, I was scared.
I had my longest run yet, 14 miles, on my training schedule.
But when I woke up, all I could think about was last week’s disastrous LR.
I went about my pre-run routine as usual, though, hoping to kick the negative juju but it didn’t work. I wanted to bag the run but there was no way I could justify it. I was coming off of a two-day rest. My body was physically ready to run. My head was holding me back.
I told myself that I wasn’t a runner. I wasn’t like everyone else. My body wasn’t cut out to run. Why should I keep fighting against the inevitable? How could I possibly run a marathon?
I struggled to quiet these negative thoughts. When I had a moment to think, I realized where these voices were coming from: fear.
Last week’s LR took much more out of me than I had realized.
I no longer had faith in myself or my running.
I don’t know where the rest of my training is going to take me, but if I had to guess, I would say that this was the defining point in my training.
I had two options.
- I could skip the run. I could tell myself that I’ll do next week’s LR and all will be good.
- I could run. I could tell that stupid voice in my head to shut up and just go.
I knew if I chose door number one, I would not be running in marathon in March. My resolve would be shattered. I would never be able to come back from that in time to complete my marathon training.
So I ran.
And I ran.
And I ran some more.
I ran 17 miles!!
It was my longest run ever and three miles more than I needed.
When I got back from my run, all I could do was smile! I was proud of myself. I didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day (I am still smiling the next day). I proved to myself that I can do it. I am a runner. I can run a marathon!
What is one of your proudest moments?