Half-Marathon Training Week 7

Well friends, this week didn’t go as planned. I’m incredibly sad and disappointed. None-the-less it wasn’t too terrible of a week, I managed to run all of my runs, including my long run of the week…a big 5 miles.

A lot of this was caused my work and run schedule being totally out of sync. Last week was kinda the same, I ran on Monday (normal) and Wednesday (normal) but then ran on Friday  (not the norm) instead of Saturday (typically my long run day) but since I was going to work on Sunday and then having Monday through Wednesday off and back to work Thursday through all next week I was in a pickle for this week’s run schedule. Now yes, it wouldn’t be issue to run during my work week, thats what I do all the time. But us having classes going on I have to be at work either at 7:30 or 8, and that would be a wake up time of 6 am to run. That isn’t happening just yet.

My run schedule went something like this: Sunday (normally Monday’s run), Tuesday (normally Wednesday’s run), and Wednesday’s run (normally Saturday’s long run). Ah, so close together. But this is what I had to do in order to get my week done. But man oh man, Sunday was brutal.

Sunday I worked 10+ hours and didn’t get home until 7:45, and then I helped Zach with dinner and while it was in the oven I bolted outside to run. I didn’t get out until 8 o’clock and boy do I hate running at night. I like to run in the mornings on a nearly empty stomach, like I had no choice in the matter for Sunday’s run. The run started off bad, I had severe pain in both my lower legs at .5 miles into my 3 miles. My lower legs felt like they were about to explode, they got so tight. When I had to stop it was worse. You could see my legs flexing and relaxing in various spots and this intense throbbing pain came over. A normal person would of stopped, but I’m not normal so I kept going.

I was crying when I got home.

I was on the floor having a tantrum and not being able to breath or relax because of my legs. Poor Zach, he was trying to help, but nothing was working. Sorry for no pictures, some odd reason I was not in the mood to take a picture of me having a panic attack. But I’m sure it would be laughable right now. This might of helped me feel better

Monday I didn’t run. I was seriously debating all morning. I decided it was best to give my legs one more day of rest before running 4 miles on Tuesday. And I was a little sore from Sunday.

Tuesday I slept late, and got out when it was just too damn hot. I was miserable the entire time. I’m happy I did it, and thats about it. I’m not proud of my time, I actually added 4 minutes onto my time’s from last week…and thats a complete crap. Wanna talk about motivation to bust out a good timed run on the next day, that was all I needed. I was done-zo at the end, and I was so happy it was over.

Wednesday was 5 miles. I was nervous/excited and anxious. I’m not sure why, but I couldn’t wait to get up and get outside. Even when I woke up at 6 am. I’ve never, NEVER gotten up that early to run. And to think I was excited about this, huh I’m some kind of crazy person. However, I didn’t get outside until 6:30 and it was already 78°, yes I typed that correctly, with a nice heat index of 81°…at 6:30 in the morning without the sun being up. I swear I was going to die…again. It was so humid I couldn’t breath. I felt trapped, like there was plastic wrap around me. My sweat wasn’t evaporating, it was just running off of me. I wasn’t even 3 miles in when I called Zach crying. I had a minor major meltdown. I felt like a huge failure. I kept repeating, “I can’t do this, I’m not a runner, I suck at this, why can’t I just (super bad word) do this right?” etc, etc. I told him I was going to stop and walk home, and he didn’t say anything except, “you do whats best for you right now.” Oh boy, I love my husband. He let me vent, didn’t stop me or encourage my decision. I seriously wanted to stop, but something in my head wasn’t going to allow that.

I managed to stop crying, and the anger I developed about myself really had me going. I wasn’t going to quit, I wasn’t going to prove I couldn’t do this. I even ran at my normal, fast pace of under 10 minutes. It all felt glorious. Zach called like 15 minutes later, asking where I was and if he needed to come get me. When I said no, I decided to finish he goes, “I knew you would, I love you.” What can I say, he knows me all too well. The two things that played into my moment of weakness was 1.) I was incredibly exhausted from running 9 miles back-to-back, and 2.) it was ridiculously hot and humid (I always forget that plays big role in how a run goes).

Regardless I finished. My time? Doesn’t matter to me. My pace? Who cares. All I wanted to do was finish. I wanted to at least look at my training schedule and know I hadn’t quit in 7 weeks. That’s what matter to me the most. And boy, I was (and still am) so happy I didn’t cave and quit.

5 miles done and in the books.

That shirt is normally bright pink, due to my hot mess-of-a-self, it was red. You can see the sweat starting line. Also due to the humidity, sweating, and the oil-cleansing-method, my forehead decided to go back to high school and break out. Awesome. I’ve stopped using the oil and using the good ole’ Proactiv. Its already gone 🙂

So there is my week 7, it wasn’t as good as last week. But I had a real mental struggle and I’ve seen what my body is capable of doing, now its just a matter of getting my mind to match my body.

Also, who watched the opening ceremonies for the Olympics?! I stayed up and watched all of it, and I had to get up at 7:30 and be at work this morning at 8:30. I just love the Olympics. I can’t wait for August 5 to see the women’s marathon start…at 6 am our time.

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