The week, in training:
Monday: TurboFire Stretch 40 + 3.5 (very windy) miles
Tuesday: 5 miles, "tempo" + ZWOW
Thursday: 5 miles, progression + corporate wellness class (taught)
Friday: 4.05 miles
Saturday: BODYPUMP (taught)
Sunday:12 miles, long
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I've whined. I've complained. I've gotten mad. All because my training wasn't where I wanted it to be, wasn't going the way I wanted to go.
And then came last week.
Though far from perfect -- because a run where you nearly get lost in a cemetery while listening to an Another Mother Runner podcast makes that nearly impossible -- the week went better. Much, much better. I added a fifth run, a "recovery" one of sorts, and got in 5-milers twice. worked with weights three times, and I definitely felt the burn of my circuit class - even if it wasn't fun. I hit nearly 30 miles, which I'm not sure I've ever done when training for a half-marathon.
And, I had a stellar long run. Like, super stellar.
My goal of late has been to inconvenience Mark as little as possible when it comes to long runs. I've squeezed them in on personal days, gotten up at 5 a.m. to run 9 miles on the treadmill and did 11 miles during week 7 while Miles was napping. It worked out so well then that I thought I'd try it again with my 12-miler.
Of course, we all know how well Miles napped this weekend.
And so Mark and I found ourselves at noon Sunday trying to "kill" an hour until we thought we could put Miles down. I was dressed to go and the weather was nice and Mark had only had two pieces of pizza for lunch ... and well, why not go for a run as a family, I thought. Mark was a bit more trepidatious (because of the pizza) but obliged and so we set out for our first family run since Christmas.
I told Mark it would be a very slow four miles as I warmed up but we trotted along our normal route at a comfortable pace, one that should have probably worried me just a tad. However, it was so nice to have some company, to hear Miles point out the dogs and feel my legs moved that I went with it. I could always take it a tad slower when I finished up on my own.
But after Mark and Miles retreated inside (and I making a quick potty stop), I continued on at nearly the same pace as I trucked down a semi-busy street toward a greenway trailhead. I figured I'd go with it for the next four miles and slow it down the last four.
But as I rounded into the park for the last set, I kept seeing an 8:xx pace on my watch. It was unreal. While I felt like I was pushing, I didn't think I was doing that (and truth be told, I wasn't - the MOTOACTV is a big tease) and so I soldiered on with the gusto of someone who had something to prove. Something to show herself.
As I reached my block, I was tired. I was feeling the effort of a harder 12-mile run. And, yet, I felt the urge to push. To give it one last go.
I pressed "end workout" at 12 miles on the nose in 1:52 and some change.
I walked in the door smiling - and saw two smiling faces as well - and told Mark for the first time this training cycle, I felt like maybe - just maybe - I might be able to give my PR a run for its money.