When I was a little girl, any time my mom tried to take a shortcut it ended in tears. Mine and hers. She has a knack for getting hopelessly lost and I have a knack for panicking when I don’t know where I am.
So, I should know that shortcuts are a bad idea. Didn’t stop me last week though. I randomly decided that I should just skip ahead a week to try and hit 10 miles a week ahead of schedule. Bad idea. Like the shortcuts of my youth it ended in tears.
My poor legs just weren’t ready. By Saturday when I should have been sailing through a short run loosening up for the next day I could barely get through a mile and half. I had to cut the run short and couldn’t run on Sunday which was super disappointing and shame-spiral inducing. Hence the tears.
I think the hardest part of running is patience. Waiting to get stronger, waiting to add miles, waiting for rest days to be over so I can run again.
Glad to report that today after taking the rest I needed I kicked ass all over six sets of 880s.
So, lesson learned: no shortcuts … because they just lead to the “scenic route” which in running and in my mom’s car always equals a lot of lost time.