This weekend was total pants. Scratch that, all of last week sucked. It wasn’t the weather, my normal shitty workload or scheduling of any kind. It was just me.
I’ve felt mentally and physically drained all week.
Each week I have four planned runs—2 easy, 1 speed work and 1 long run. Last week I downgraded the speed work (4 miles tempo, 6 miles total) to an easy 3 miler because I just wasn’t feeling up to it. On Saturday, I stayed curled up into a ball in my pjs until the afternoon when friendly persuasion finally got me out the door for an 8 miler. Though the running conditions were actually pleasant (50s F with light warm drizzle), it was a total slogfest and I had real concerns about my planned 16 miler for the next day.
Sunday dawned and it was a beautiful day -- temps in the 50s with sunshine and blue skies. To try to motivate myself, I took the bus to Blenheim, planning to run an 8 mile loop around the grounds and then head home for the final eight. Or I tried to but I missed the bus I had planned on taking by two minutes so I had to wait a half an hour before the next one came. Argh.
Most of the county was out at Blenheim to enjoy the weather. After queuing at the ticket booth and using the loo, I headed off on my route—hopeful but weary.
Not 100 m into the run, my underwear, for some inexplicable reason, decided to head south. Majorly. I had to run a full half mile before I reached the cover of trees in order to fix the situation. The entire time, I kept having to check that my yoga pants hadn’t fallen down too since the bunching of the undies wasn’t helping any.
That situation tended to, I continued on the run, enjoying the views of the lake and fields. Blenheim is hilly, as I’ve complained about before, but it was a nice change of pace from running in Nerdtown. After a nice out and back bit along a tree-lined lane with sheep sprinkled about, things went to shit again.
I needed to carry extra items with me to run at Blenheim—cash, id, phone—so I jerry-rigged a little pouch onto my recently fixed hydration belt. I didn’t anticipate the side of the pouch would fray from rubbing against the belt strap. But, since it was super cheap, that’s exactly what it did. When I heard my phone crash to the ground (no permanent damage, thank god), I had to stop and re-sort items. I ended up having to carry the small bag of gummy bears in my hand, but otherwise I got the important stuff secured onto the belt.
Clothing malfunction #2 was a constant affair. Rummaging in the drawer for a clean running shirt that morning, I came up with one I hadn’t worn in a while. It didn’t occur to me until I was actually running in it why I hadn’t worn it in ages. The damn thing kept riding up so I had to keep pulling it back down for the duration of the run. Again, argh.
For the rest of the eight mile loop, I tried to block out the negative thoughts but to no avail. The beautiful surrounds, the grazing horses and sheep, the friendly faces, the perfect running conditions--nothing worked. I felt like poo. The only thing that got me through that loop was telling myself that I could stop at the end of it. I’d cut the run short and take the bus home instead.
And that’s what I did. It felt like the final sign of the day when I was right on time at the bus stop to catch my ride home.
I arrived back feeling defeated and ungrateful. Physically, I could have run the full distance that day. It would have been incredibly slow, but it would have been possible. But my head and my heart weren’t in it.
This week is a step-back week for me in my training and I really need it. I had to convince myself last night and this morning not to attempt to make up those lost 8 miles, knowing there would be no benefit now. Instead, I am taking today completely off. No running, no cross training. I’m sticking to my eased back running schedule this week and maybe, if I feel I have the energy, I’ll swim for cross training. But I’m not going to push it. Frankly, I can’t. I’m too damn tired.
My efforts to try to get eight hours of quality sleep per night are being thwarted at the moment—and not by my constantly obsessing brain. I live in a row house. The neighbors on one side have moved out and now there’s major construction going on everyday starting at 8 am. On the other side resides crackhead neighbor who apparently had a bad trip last night and started freaking out at 5 am this morning. Seriously, ho needs to get her ass to rehab.
So even though I live in a wonderful residential neighborhood within easy access of shops, pubs and the like, it feels like I reside in the nexus of hell at the moment.
Ok, that’s more than enough of my bitching for a year. I hope you all had a wonderful weekend. Catch up with you when I can.