Running with Pixie Dust

Sunday's run:

Half Marathon Training Week Twelve, Day Three

11.05 miles/2:20:40

Technically speaking, according to the training program, Sunday's run should have been a nine miler, but I decided to make it ten miles instead for two reasons.  The first was that I was feeling a little unnecessarily and moronically cocky after my great nine mile run last week and thought it wouldn't be a problem at all to tack an extra mile on this week.  The second was that I was still feeling a little unsure about this whole idea: "Don't worry about making the final jump from 10 miles in practice to 13.1 miles in the race. Inspiration will carry you to the finish line, particularly if you taper the final week."  For some reason, an extra one or two miles doesn't seem so tough, but an extra three?  I had my doubts.  So I decided to make Sunday's run ten miles, next Sunday's run eleven miles, and then taper on the last weekend before the half.

So why does it say 11.05 miles up there?

Somehow, despite mapping out my course in advance as well as having an iPhone with GPS and Google Maps just waiting for me, I got lost.  In actuality, I did only run 10 miles... but I ended up having to walk an extra mile to get back to David's apartment.  I would love to tell you that it felt just fine after having run that far, but there were a lot of four letter words involved and none of them were said quietly.

I really don't know how to feel about this run.  It was all over the place.  There were times that I felt really awesome and like I could conquer everything, and then at one point I actually had to stop running, lean against a wall, and sob into my hands.  The route that I mapped out with David's help was really flat, which was greatly appreciated, but not what I expected.  I forget that David really lives in a city, and that I really hate cities.  I'm used to running around my tiny little town in Colorado.  This was an intimidating run.  

But I'm proud of myself for getting through it and I'm incredibly glad it's over.  I think that I might just call it a day and make this my longest training run.  I can do 9 miles next week and maybe 7 miles the week after as a taper, and then just go for it with the half.  My dad (who, by the by, did nonsense like ultramarathons) said that if I lived through the 11 miles, then I will be able to finish the half no problem.  So now at least I have someone to blame if my legs fall off.  Love you, Daddy.

Today was supposed to be a Turbo Fire and slow easy run day and it turned into a mostly sitting around and doing nothing day.  I don't know why, but exercise seemed completely unbearable today.  Not my typical "I'm lazy and sweating is bothersome" kind of excuse, but really... I felt like crying when I even thought about trying Turbo Fire.  Which kind of sucks because the next two days will be spent in Disneyland (that's definitely not the part that sucks) so while I'll be walking a lot, I'll also be eating everything in sight and making time for running or punching and kicking the air around me will probably not be a big priority.  So I might not actually exercise again until Friday.  I'm trying not to beat myself up about it because, hey... a few years ago, it would have been amazing if I'd intentionally exercised two days in one week.  

But I am still beating myself up about it.  If anyone has a cure for self loathing, please send it to me.