I got an email from the Lakefront Marathon yesterday, informing me it’s 6 weeks until race day.
Six weeks? Are you joking? The race is in October!
Which is… OMG! How is October only 6 weeks away?
I opened my FIRST-method training plan on my phone and counted the remaining long runs. FIVE.
The infamous 20-mile “build-up run” is this weekend, the email said. This weekend? My plan is slightly different but sure as sugar, my 20-miler is next weekend. Holy crap. This has snuck up on me.
It seems as if I’ve been stuck forever in a running vortex, where life is run after run after run… [my eyes turning into crazy pinwheels].
All my free time is spent running.
I’ve put my nose to the grindstone (grumpily as of late) and at some point, lost track of the time.
It has seemed insurmountable, and endless, per my last post.
There is suddenly an end in sight!
I’ve made some concessions recently.
Per my particular training plan, all long runs are supposed to be at a certain pace (calculated with a 10K race pace as a base, and then adding 30 seconds per mile).
I gave up on that. In the heat of the summer and with all the extra mileage I’m not used to, it made me feel sick, and dizzy, exhausted, and most importantly, I dreaded the long runs. It was like running a race every weekend. My mind and body said NO.
Wasn’t worth it; this is my hobby, not the Olympics, and the distances alone are far enough out of my comfort zone. Long pace runs are a crucial key for goal time success in the training plan I use, but I’ve adjusted my definition of success to “finishing the race” and don’t care about at what pace or time anymore. This makes me a lot happier.
I don’t think my dad, the tireless competitor I’m running the race for, would mind if he saw how committed I’ve been to this training. That alone is enough, I think.
Is it, Dad? I’m sure he’d say yes (and then bring his stopwatch to the race in 6 weeks).