The Mental Game

Today was the first long distance run I had to say, "I'm done" before hitting the distance.  Part of the team was running 18, part of the team was only doing 13.  I had in my mind that I would run 13 with those that still had a shred of sanity left in them.  My first 3 miles felt really good.  Mile 4, I could feel anxiety setting in as I started doing the math in my head, prepping for the upcoming route and thinking about my to-do list that was waiting for me once I finished the run.  Suddenly, my legs felt like lead.  My heart felt heavy.  My mind said, "enough."  So at 4.5, I turned to Susan and said, "I'm out."  She first laughed, but then said, "are you serious?" and sadly...I was.  

Kathy and Stacie weren't feeling the run either, each for various reasons...life.  So the three of us turned back.  We finished up at just under 7 miles.  I know, most people think, "Holy crud...7 miles!?!  That's nothing to sneeze at!" but this far into marathon training, 7 miles isn't going to cut it for my "long run day".  To say that I was disgusted with myself is an understatement.  

Let me back up to when I first woke up this morning at 3:45am.  The alarm went off and my very first thought was, "I hate running."  Yeah, probably not the most positive thing someone should think as they are 13 or 14 weeks (I've lost count) into marathon training.  But, that's where I am.  I've been working a lot and I'm tired.  I'm burning both ends of the candle and I was not mentally prepared for the day or the run.  When I originally signed up with the marathon team, I only thought about how much I love the running, the runners, the social connection, health benefits, and if I'm being honest here...the clothes.  Weeks later, my body hurts, it's not just the time commitment of the run but also the time in RECOVERY, my feet are hideous and can we just take a moment to appreciate the amount of laundry (both excessive running clothes and normal every day wear that is just piling up because of the beforementioned time spent running AND recovering that keeps me from putting any time into my house chores such a laundry, and don't even get me started on what my kitchen looks like...)  WHEW. Mini vent over.  Needless to say, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed and overrun.  Back to 4am, I did lay there and try negotiating with myself about why I really should or shouldn't run, I forced myself out of bed, got dressed, had coffee and breakfast and started my pre-run rituals.  Out the door by 5:45am and on my way to meet a couple teammates.  

The entire 10 min drive to Kathy's house to meet, I'm thinking about the run.  Stressing really.  I hear from Kathy she's only doing 13, and I thank my lucky stars and casually mention "me too".  Done.  Felt good to retract from the 18 miler that was looming over me.  But Kelly says she is doing 18. BAM.  Guilt.  "I should push myself" is what I'm thinking.  Then my body takes over and I start to cry.  Do I listen to body or my guilt?  I'm so torn.  I follow Kathy and Kelly in my car to our running spot start up.  I'm crying, talking to Heather on the phone, crying some more.  Feeling just way overwhelmed.  I tell myself to get my shit together as I see the rest of the team.  I get my fuel belt on, click DO WORKOUT on the Garmin and put one foot in front of the other.  Now, we're back to mile 4.5 and I'm turning around to head home.  MENTAL GAMES.  

Today was not my run.  I came home, got myself together and then worked the rest of the morning.  I just started knocking stuff off the to-do list.  Feeling a little come off my shoulders with each completed task.  I'm going to try again tomorrow, only 12 miles, tack that on with today's 7 and I feel OK with that.  I need to learn to trust myself and my instincts better.  I knew before even getting dressed that today was not my run.  There's a difference between pushing through because you need motivation and pushing through exhaustion.  I'm exhausted.  I need to make sure that mentally I'm able to tackle those long runs.  I need to get myself prepared and organized so that I can turn it off when I hit the pavement and I need to listen to my body when it says "AA you need to rest!"  Maybe that's something we don't realize until we're out there.  Maybe I could have pushed through and would have felt like a million bucks afterwards.  Maybe I would have curled into the fetal position sucking my thumb and they'd have to carry me away in a straight jacket.  I tried and I'm not going to look at it as a failure, just a lesson.  

So for today, I'm going to cross things off my list and focus on clearing my head and hopefully tomorrow I'll get a little spring in my step and feel better through those miles.