It's official: I'm schizophrenic (apologies to anyone actually suffering from the disease). I ran 18 miles last Saturday, acted like a grown up, and was very proud of self. Now, am quivering mass of nameless fears.
Unlike Susan's beach experience, covens of running blog friends did not descend on the beach during my recent three-day retreat thereto.
But, I did run.
Day one: gorgeous, so I made sure to get sunburned, but did not run.
Day two: rained the whole day. And, because I am a martyr, I got up at 7 a.m. and ran the length of the one-mile boardwalk four times in a torrential downpour. In my usual time. Happy dance.
Day three: more sun, more beach, and a two-hour drive home.
Day four: got up early and tried to run 45 minutes (because I don't have a four-mile route marked out near my house). Crashed at 38 minutes, and walked home.
I sympathize with a. maria. I truly do. My motivation is there, but just recently, I've been seized by the fear that I will never be able to run again, like it's all been pretend and accidental up to now.
So, apparently just for fun, every single time I go out to run, I am convinced that I won't be able to do it. And, when it comes true, as it did on Thursday, it's self-reinforcing. "Ah ha! You were right! You are a fraud."
Examining the data, I come up with these potential contributing factors:
Footwear: I got new, bigger (read=enormous) running shoes on Sunday, and started breaking them in this week. But I wore those for the boardwalk run and it was fine (despite slight panic attack at prospect of running).
Food: Eh, not eating so well. I admit it. I'm cheap on vacation (but not easy), so I do things like skip lunch, and nibble instead on stuff like chocolate-covered soy nuts. (Yum!) (Hey, at least they're not Thrasher's fries.)
Water: Maybe didn't drink enough?? No alcohol passed these lips, I can attest to that.
Sleep: When didn't I sleep? I've never slept so much in my life.
Personal stuff: Hmm. A LOT going on here. Annonymous posted on a.maria's blog that his/her personal demons love coming after him/her when she/he (this is exhausting: just tell us who you are already!) runs. I'm not consciously thinking about these particular problems when I run (at all other times of the day, yes), but I bet they are all in there stirring up trouble.
But really: Who the hell knows?
I'm just very tired of being afraid all the time. Note to self: So what if you don't finish a training run!!! God, get over yourself already.
Eh, enough moaning for today. Saturday is only 9 miles (stomach already churning with fear as I write this). Pass the Paxil, please.