Thursday, November 15, 2007

Thinking Happy Thoughts



distance: 5 miles


total program distance: 53.5 miles (wohoo, I've already run more than two marathons!)


pain level: slight


I have a little problem, or maybe I should put on my positive thinking hat and say I have an "opportunity for improvement". My "opportunity" is thus: I'm not used to running on flat ground. I live on the side of a big ole hill (actually it’s a big ole shield volcano), and back in the day when I was just running for running's sake and not training for anything, I used to run 2.2 miles up to the top of the hill, and 2.2 miles down. This is still my favorite run because the top of the mountain is a lovely park with big trees and dirt paths, the view is spectacular, and there is a water fountain. Anyway, my point is that I can run up- & downhill till the cows come home. I like hills, I can pace myself well on hills, my legs don't bother me when I run hills. Running flat is another story. I think I'm just not used to it, but whatever the reason, doing an all-flat course is like death to me. So why did I plan a 5-mile flat course last night, you ask? Good question. Possible answers include: A) I need to get used to flats – Yakima is super flat; B) I'm a masochist; C) Temporary Insanity; D) I'm occasionally dumb.

The above is how I am rationalizing the following: my run last night was hard, probably the hardest one so far. About halfway through I really wanted to stop. I didn't have any sharp pains, my legs just felt crappy, or rather crampy. Like they were very fragile and about to stop working. But I finished and did a long cool-down walk, and I feel okay today, a little tight but no lingering soreness or anything.

Something else I've noticed about myself is that I don't like to stop or slow down while I'm running. I know that some people like to intersperse walking with running, or walk through the aid stations, but so far I've found that changing my pace seriously throws me off. At one point last night (and only one point) I felt good, solid, comfortable, my legs didn't feel weird and I was breathing well. And then some jackass in an SUV pulls out right in front me (almost over me – and I know he saw me, we made eye contact!), I have to stop short, and when I get going again my legs are all out of whack. I noticed it each time I was held by a light. When I started up again I felt worse, even if jog in place or hop in little circles around the light pole (greatly amusing the waiting drivers I'm sure). I suppose I'll have to figure out a way to manage it though, once my runs get up in the double digits and I have to eat (or at least swallow) on the move.

No comments: