I promise I have not crawled into a hole.
I am, however, in a bit of a slump. My day job has been filling me with overwhelming feelings of anxiety. I love teaching, but sometimes I just feel helpless. There is just so much to do… And I am torn between dealing with the politics of my job and actually doing my job (ahem, teaching). There have been a few days where I have just come home and crawled into bed. And on my worst days I have crawled into bed with a jar of Biscoff.
Of course, this is no excuse for missing workouts. Surely, it would make me feel better if I just went for a run, right? Well, I normally love to de-stress with a good afternoon workout. I hate to be vague here, but I’ve had a few health problems lately, and they made me kind of scared to run. I got cleared to run again, but something was still holding me back. I guess I knew in my heart that I wasn’t fully prepared to run a marathon, especially with only two long runs (an 18 miler in December and a 20 in early February). However, I am bred to be stubborn with my Irish-Italian heritage, so I went for it anyway.
On race morning we got up at 4:30 in order to be at the oceanfront in time for the start of the half marathon. My sister and brother-in-law were running, and as their coach I definitely wanted to be there for some last-minute encouragement. I also got to see one of my cross country girls start her first half marathon (I actually had five of my cross country runners finish their first half marathon- proud moment). After that I spent the next hour and a half preparing for my race, applying Oiselle and Hammer tattoos, warming up, etc. When the race went off, I was determined to chill at 7 minute pace and hope for the best. First mile was a bit fast, 6:45, but no big deal. I tried to slow down, but then I heard someone yell my name. It was one of my roommates from the Nike Farm Team who I hadn’t seen in 8 years! She lives in another country, so seriously what are the odds of that? We chatted for the next few miles, running 6:45- 6:50 pace. At 7 or 8 miles I told her to go ahead and I hit 6:50s for the next few miles.
Then the wind hit.
Oh, that damn wind. This guy rode up on a bike and told me to catch up to some of the guys ahead of me so I would have someone to block the wind. “You’ve got about 8 miles into the wind ahead of you,” he said. I took his advice and ran behind a guy for the next few miles. When we turned onto the boardwalk I stayed behind him. That boardwalk stretched on forever.
(to be continued…)