...And then, from seemingly out of nowhere, I summoned up the strength and speed my training had been lacking all winter, to cruise through the finisher's chute in 2:20, a PR!!!
Ha ha, I got you, didn't I.
Well, the National Half Marathon is this coming Saturday, and I'm not feeling it. I'm extremely pretending that it's no big deal, that I'm not going to mind IN THE LEAST if I finish in 3 hours, that it's a training run (for what, I don't know), that my damn PF isn't actually getting worse, blah blah, etc.
Saturday was our last "group" training run. Such a pity that I started out so young and full of dreams!
Over the course of the past few months, our group (the so-called "slow" group, not that my peeps know the meaning of the word) dwindled to a total of four: our coach, two young chicks, and me. The two other chicks ran their half, the Virginia Beach Shamrock, two weeks ago. Since January, I have been gradually falling behind, slowly but surely (get it???) each week.
Saturday we were scheduled for six miles, but the two chicks who had ALREADY run their half marathons opted for 10, and I had to agree that it surely couldn't hurt me. So off we went, and as usual, I started in the middle, K and E behind me running together, and Coach in the not-too-far-ahead distance.
And as usual, around mile 3, the chicks passed me, we ran even for a while, and then, they became as tiny little dots in the distance. And then? I stopped caring about my 10-miler half-way through it. I started walking. Stretching. Talking smack to myself. You know. The USUAL. Ten miles in 2:16. I must have been going backwards for part of that.
Sunday was better. Sunday was Easter! And to make up for Saturday's misery, I dragged Number One Daughter on our annual Easter Hike on the Billy Goat Trail,
a rocky, strenuous, and somewhat treacherous hike (especially if you are carrying a NEWBORN baby on your back, like the guy in front of me was....arghhhh!)
Another guy was in shiny, tasseled loafers. No really. You would not believe what people wear to hike this trail. High heels.
We had fun.
But I still had to feed the TRI-beast. So NOD dropped me off at work, and I did my second-ever mini-brick: I rode 10 miles in 50 minutes (note to self: Self? You feel the wind a LOT more when riding. Hence, you get COLDER than when you are running. See note above about appropriate dress), froze my ASS off, and then did a 10:30 min/mile.
I will never get over what it feels like to get off a bike and then run. NEVER. Just picture yourself running with your feet in concrete. It's so funny, I think I actually laughed out loud. While trying to run. Two things that don't generally occur together in nature.
Biking is so much more fun than running. I'm sorry to say it, my running peeps, but it is. Even given the fact that after a short ride, certain, err, parts of my anatomy are, um ... not feeling so good. Good thing I've already got that daughter of mine!
In summation, for those of you following along at home:
Saturday: 10-mile crappy run;
Sunday: 2-mile hardcore hike, followed by 10-mile bike, followed by 10:30 mile run, followed by grocery shopping, followed by lasagna-making (the way my Italian father made it, with meat, AND hard-boiled eggs) in honor of NOD, even though meat is gross and I'm not doing her any favors by feeding it to her.
And that's a wrap.