For the last couple of months whenever I thought back to my summer training building up to the half marathon, I found myself nostalgic for sense of accomplishment after breaking another personal best, for the soreness in my muscles telling me very clearly that I had worked my body to its limit, for the sight of the scale as it kept notching further and further in the direction I wanted. I couldn’t wait until my marathon training started so I could get back to challenging myself with longer runs and more intense workouts. I was excitedly counting down the days until I could officially say “18 weeks to go!”. In short, I was an idiot.
How could I not have remembered what this was like? Pushing my pace faster and faster? Lifting weights to strengthen my stride? Suffering the excruciating embarrassment that is Zumba class? Spending night after night with ice packs tied to every inch of my body with ace bandages? The inability to fit anything but running and sleep into my schedule?
Ok, before you go getting all worried about me, I should explain that I am currently in week two of training and therefor nothing I say should be taken too seriously. Week two is brutal. Week one is all about the optimism and the excitement, week two is more about feeling like a failure and forcing yourself to go on. Week three needs to get here stat. I need this to be a routine again, not an interruption of my schedule.
So tonight I will have a 5m run on the treadmill, I’m trying for interval training if I can manage it, but I might be forced to just run the damn thing. Tomorrow I have an 11m run outside and I am actually really looking forward to that. I miss running by the lake, the early sunsets and freezing temperatures of Winter keep me off my favorite paths after work, but the “warm” mid-day Sunday sun calls to me!
I hope that Monday brings with it the feeling of routine that I am hoping week three will bring. If it doesn’t, I’m just going to have to throw in the towel and go completely insane for a few weeks. I hope no one minds?