change of plans

Since the marathon, I never ran more than twice each week during work days, but I put in "big runs."

Just before the 8K freedom run I did a 16-miler. Although I started early, toward the end the sun had become an almost palpable menace, and I walked half or most of the last 2-3 miles.

Last weekend I took off even earlier. At 5 am the darkness was a bit scary. I could discern the track in the moonlight, but a man on a bike, without cyclist gear, passed me TWICE and spoke to me both times, and that creeped me out. I got in 7-8 miles while the sun was still rising on the other side of the mountains, and afterward a slim layer of mist filtered out the worst of the heat. By the time the sun shook it off and started burning unencumbered I was done with my 19 miles.

Today I planned for 22. I was so stressed by my dilemma between darkness early and heat later, I dreamt during the night that by 4 am we had broad daylight and fine rain. I waited until some pink was weaving itself through the gray of dawn. When I got out of the car I noticed I had forgotten to put on my sports bra.

I do not have much to speak of there, so running was still a doable thing. But would a knight forget to put on his armor when getting ready for battle? I felt stupid, vulnerable, and... unprofessional.

I decided, on the spot, to do 13 miles only. I do not know if this, under the circumstances, was common sense, or if I chickened out because of the distance or the oncoming heat, or if it just occurred to me that 22 miles 7 weeks before my next marathon might be overkill.

I still walked a lot. My pace improved only slightly over last week's. But 13 miles left me remarkably fresh. And I realized something I might have not noticed if trudging on. The amount of miles I can do now drama-free (not effortlessly, but without feeling overwhelmed) is not 10 miles anymore. It's 13.