Over at the Complete Running Network, some not-so-sharp editor has chosen to publish a rumination of mine on one of my favorite subjects: "Running Is Mental."
In other news, last night's pace workout was another bomb. Maybe one day, probably long after this marathon, I'll get the hang of this. Last night I decided to run seven miles, 1 1/2 warm up, then 2 at pace, and then the rest as slow as I liked—just to take the pressure off—but trying for a consistent pace. Cuz, people, I have been off my game since mi hija absconded to Espana. That's my story anyway. That, or maybe running really is mental.
So, last night (Wednesday) I did this:
mile 1: 10:59
mile 1.5: 5:26
mile 2.5: 9:42 (pace!)
mile 3.5: 9:55 (pace!)
mile 4.5: 12:30
mile 5.5: 11:59
mile 6: 7:07 (that's a 14-min mile, people)
mile 7: 12:54
Tuesday I had 3 miles on the treadmill; after 30 minutes I was at 2.5 and I called it quits. $#!&^! Hardcore, my ass.
Saturday: 20-that's TWENTY-miles is on the sked. I'm feeling ... insecure.
I'll tell you one thing: My week off from work last week? Practically killed me. Once again, I've lost me mojo. :(