But sometimes, it all falls apart.
Last Saturday, I set out to run 18 miles, and I returned home after just 4, knowing my legs just didn’t have enough juice.
The next morning, I bravely headed out again, only to stop after 8 miles. I was hungry, thirsty, disappointed, and mentally exhausted.
After a hot shower, a tearful texting conversation with a friend, and a toddler-led session of block tower construction, I devised a new strategy. This weekend, I’m racing, hoping that a half marathon with about a thousand New England runners along the ocean will rejuvenate my running soul.
This is going to be rough. The fact that the weather is predicted to be a chilly 35 degrees with “ocean breezes” is magnified by the race’s worst rule: No earbuds, which means there will be no music to drown out my thoughts that tell me I’m not going to make it.
Marathon training, like so many other things in life, isn’t just about how perfectly we build or follow the plan. More often, it’s about how well we adjust when things don’t go as planned. There is comfort in the expected, the intended, the known. For Type-A data wonks like me, knowing when to read the situation, follow your intuition, and try something new is downright terrifying.
So here I am, leaning into the unknown and unplanned. It’s going to be cold, breezy, and quiet. It’s just me and my shoes, hanging out outside my comfort zone, hoping to quiet my doubt and reclaim my running confidence.
Stay tuned!
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