lack of strategy
I have run eleven miles several times now. Once I did twelve, which wiped me out for the day. Once I even did close to 13, in my own sweet time. That wiped me out too – no surprise here. It took 10-15 minutes to recover my humanity after I finished the four rounds around Academy. I did it so it’s my body, and not only my heart, that knows I can do it.
Let’s call this experience – instead of prop for my insecurity. I am still clueless as to what strategy I need to employ when I run “the race ahead.” The first time I ran ten miles on my outdoor track I switched over to walking each time I felt I could not do otherwise. I use this euphemism to spare everybody a detailed account of muscle soreness, pressured lungs, or mind ready to burst. This method translated into frequent stretches of walking.
The second time I slowed down willfully every mile or so. Let’s call it organized breaks. It kept me subjectively fresh, but my time didn’t improve. Now I can do three miles without walking. But my time didn’t improve in a significant way.
During weeks of “long runs,” the pattern repeated itself. I still do not know what I will do when I run the half-marathon four days from now. They have water stops every two miles. Given that we are talking about the high-altitude desert of New Mexico, water intake is crucial, rainy season or not. And I know you cannot really swallow while running. Perhaps I’ll slow down for the time span it takes to take a few sips. I am insanely worried about what this is going to do to my absolute racing time.