The Bad Times

Today's Running World Quote was:

"It takes faith and the courage to risk failure in order to realize one's destiny. Having had my share of failures throughout my career I know that it is well worth the risk." - Ryan Hall, American long distance runner and winner of the 2008 United States Olympic Marathon Trials

I love this quote. It really hit home after the past few weeks I have had. 

This explains a lot of my lack of posting. 

"Drama" is exactly how I'd characterize what's been going on. I'd love to divulge everything (not) but it involves tears, yelling, alcohol and honestly a little loss of dignity on my part every once in a while.  

Don't worry, you can just go watch an ABC-no-so-Family show and it will be about the same. 

Anyway the drama has caused some sidetrackedness in my focus on training. I'm still doing it but it's been more of a mind numbing get-away-from-everything thing, causing me to not want to post about it. 

On top of my 'drama' I had one of the worst runs of life on Sunday.  I had skipped my long run last weekend due to, surprise, drama and drinking, and so I was excited to get back to a 10 miler on Sunday.  I had eaten breakfast with some friends early in the morning and headed out around 2pm so I could have plenty of time to digest my food.  I felt perfectly fine when I left. Excited to run, had on new clothes, it was a beautiful day in Atlanta at a high 60's low 70's temp with some wind. 

Well I got to about mile 2.5 and realized something wasn't quite right. My legs weren't shaking that dead feeling. I chalked it up to a few days of not running and they were just stiff but I couldn't get rid of it. By mile 4.5 I was in the Virginia Highlands and had stopped. I was sitting on a bench with absolutely dead legs and a stomach ache just to add to it. My lungs were on fire and everything felt like it was falling apart.  I knew I wasn't going to make 10 miles that day, I was praying just for 8 at the rate I was going. I texted my roommate with a warning text of "this isn't going so hot" just in cased I needed her to come get me.

Yeah, I felt THAT bad. 

So I kept going, forced myself at least, slowly, and told myself that if I could just keep going and walk some/rest I'd make it through. 

The next 3.5 miles were the worst miles ever. 

I've never thrown up from working out but I was pretty damn close, and I actually WANTED to. I wanted to throw up so bad thinking it would make me feel better. Anything to make me feel better. I kept waiting for a second wind but no. And of course when you're in the middle of Atlanta you're smack in the middle of a MILLION and one hills. Steep, long hills. 

I somehow made it back to campus and when my Garmin watch hit 8 miles I just stopped. And I walked home. Walked. I've never done that in my life. It was miserable. I was miserable. I felt like such a  failure. And the half is only 3 weeks away! I was supposed to be throwin out 8 miles like nothin. 

My legs just did not want it. And I had to listen on Sunday. 

Maybe it's been the alcohol, which honestly hasn't been much because if any of y'all knew me you knew I can get a hangover from 2 beers and be hammered in 1. Maybe it's all this drama, or school, or the stress I've been putting on myself lately but it's just been a rough few weeks of training. My Monday run was sucky as well. Legs hadn't recovered yet but I knew I needed to get the miles in. 

Anyway back to the applicable quote for the day. I guess this is all of my failures right now. I keep fighting the failure feeling. I have to shake it because I start taper in 8 days and then it's race time. I've been working way too hard to let this feeling take me down.

So it's time to push the personal shit out of my mind and get it all done and get back to running happy instead of this moody gloomy running.