Just two days ago I blogged about how motivation has been high lately. How quickly that can turn. Wasn't really looking forward to my long run today, I got up at 6:30 and I had no doubt I'd get out and do it, I wasn't procrastinating or anything, just wasn't looking forward to it. My inner voices were fighting. I got out and immediately my left ankle started bothering me.
"Yes, I don't have to run!"
"You can run, this is the same old pain in your ankle, it will loosen up."
But it wasn't loosening up like normal; and it hurt much worse than usual.
"Oh yeah, it's making you limp and change your stride. Couch here we come!"
"Give it a chance!"
So I did. Stopped, shook it out, walked a bit.
"See? It still hurts. Give it up."
"I won't. It feels a little better. Just another quarter mile or so and it'll be fine. I'll regret it later if I don't run."
Finally it started feeling better. Really this is normally just a little pain that disappears after a few seconds of easy running. Today for some reason it was worse than normal and took longer to feel better but it eventually did, thankfully.
"Fine. We'll run but it's going to be slow and I'm taking lots of breaks and I'm not going to enjoy it." (How prophetic that would be.)
So off we went, me and my voices. I did feel pretty good through 10 or 11 and stopped for a gel and some water and a potty break. You know this is unusual for me for long runs. Shortly after that some fatigue started to set in.
"Uh oh, not good 9 miles from home."
"See I told you to lay on the couch."
I figured I'd bounce back in a few miles and although it didn't get any worse, I never really did. I went through 17 miles at a pace of just under 9 minutes per mile. Right then and there my body decided that it wanted to be done and my brain agreed. Great decision but not much you can do about it 4 miles from home. I started the jogging/walking that is so familiar towards the end of some of my marathons.
"If you pass somebody, ask them if they have a cellphone."
Some one was walking ahead so I started running again to catch up to them. They turned up a street before I could get there, D'OH! A biker appears out of nowhere but speeds away before I could yell "EXCUSEMEBUTI'MREALLYTIREDANDWANTTOGOHOMEANDDOYOUHAVEACELLPHONEICOULDBORROW?"
Finally at mile 18+ I came across two joggers that were trying to cut their run from 8 to 5 miles but didn't have a cell phone either. Ugh! I was on my own. Using my walking/jogging I made it home averaging 10-11 minutes per mile.
It was a warm and humid one out there. What's up with this Minnesota weather? Fellow blogger Jean had the same experience in a 20 mile race yesterday that I wanted to do too but couldn't since both kids had their soccer debuts. Anyway, I walked up to the door of my house and as I reached for the doorknob I heard this in my head:
"Boy am I glad to be home."
All in: 20.57 miles at 9:13 pace.