First, thanks for all the encouraging comments ... and for not pointing and laughing.
Today, I ran four miles in 43:41. That's a 10:55 min pace, for those of you keeping track, my fastest four mile run yet. I just had to show myself that I actually could run faster than a 17 min mile pace. (Come on! I still can't believe that.) And I can. And I can run faster than an 11 min/mile pace, too. So take that, you ego, you.
So, you ask, what am I doing right now, at 10 p.m. Monday night? Well, since you asked, I'll tell you: I'm sitting on the couch, resting icing compressing and elevating, because I went to my weekly swing dance lesson (you asked) tonight, and funnily enough, somebody swung me, and dunno what happened, but ouchie to front of mid-thigh, resulting in general limping and ouchiness.
After carefully considering all all my blog-mates charitable and enlightening comments (and believe me, I greedily soaked them all up (thank you thank you thank you), and having talked Saturday's 14-mile embroglio to within an inch of its life, I've come to some acceptance that a) these things happen, b) it doesn't necessarily mean that it will take me eight hours to finish the marathon, and c) my two fast runs last week just might have contributed to my little problems on Saturday. So that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
In summation, I am now pretty much willing to admit that despite reading mountains (ha ha) of running advice, I so don't know what I'm doing, because d) in addition to running fast this morning, for no good reason, there's more! I e) signed up for the Rockville Twilight 8k RunFest this coming Saturday (I'm swapping that for my weekly short group run of 7 miles.)
I am so calling the doctor tomorrow. And I don't mean the head doctor, though that's a thought. ...