It’s Sunday! And I don’t have to get on an airplane! In fact, I don’t have to get on one until Wednesday evening and then I get to turn around and come right back home Thursday evening. Seriously, I have no words to describe how happy that makes me. The best thing would be a week with no airplane time, but this is the next best thing.
It’s also long run day. Again — no words to describe the happiness.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about fuel before a run, so I decided to try a pre-run “green-monster” smoothie:
The ingredients in mine were: a lot of kale (maybe 2 cups?), a banana, a peach, 1/4 cup of soy milk, ice cubes and a bunch of chia seed. (BTW… chia is the best seed ever. For all of you “how can you live without meat? How do you get all the right nutrition?” people out there, allow me to introduce you to chia…which has more Omega-3 than salmon. So, neener, neener.)
Definitely helped me feel powered up for my run. This was my first chance to do a true long-run since the half marathon last month which means two things: it felt fantastic and, I way overestimated my ability. Somehow I was sure that I was ready for a 15-miler. Soooo not the case, though I did pull off 13.5 nicely.
Can’t say much for my route though. I tend to not plan routes out very well — I kind of just leave the house, pick a direction and start. The running mania takes it from there. I’ve always wanted to run across the St. Johns Bridge, so I headed in that direction today. Crossing the bridge was so fun. The run on the other side of it was so not. There’s basically no foot path, as I discovered a bit too late. I was pretty much just running down the shoulder of Highway 30 in the Linton area, which is really industrial. (According to signs hung from phone poles for about a mile Linton is where “People live and work.” Which is true if by “people” you mean boxcars and semi trucks.)
It was definitely one of those situations where you keep telling yourself “just keep going, it’s not actually that far to get home” when in reality it’s like nine miles to home. All told, if I’d finished the route, I would have done my first 15 mile run, but it was not meant to be. My legs started to poop out right at about 12.5, by mile 13 they felt like lead and half a mile later I had to stop. Called Oliver to come and pick me and my sad, sore legs up on the side of the road. My hero.
Surprisingly, I don’t feel defeated. I still ran 13.5 miles, I’m following my training plan and two Sundays from now I should be strong enough for 15.
Especially if I keep drinking my vegetables!