The Commoner's Terrible Run

I've told you before I'm running the Chicago Marathon.  I don't expect this to be easy.  I expect this to be torturous.  I don't expect that to be the case before I've even taken a really long run.  I don't expect this to be the truth in the middle of the second week.  But it is.

I have been running since my half marathon in San Luis Obispo in April quite nicely.  However  I found that my pace was slower than before-which was already slow.  I blamed this on not trying very hard, heat, work, and 4 O'Clock wind.

Tuesdays are my worst running day.  I blame it on being tired from Sunday's long run and general malaise.  But not yesterday.  No way.  Yesterday I was super girl.  I was flying I tried to slow down and I couldn't everything was on.  I was sure that I was back.  That running with the wind had helped me be a stronger runner.  I tell myself that every day in the wind. I'm going to be stronger.


My goal every day is to run faster than the day before.  Today was going to be a 4 mile run and it was going to have to be pretty fast to out do yesterday.  But the rule is that if you can't beat the pace then run the best you can and run to the music.

I've been fighting a few things this week.  A toe that seems to bleed for some reason and I can't figure out why the neighbor toe nail is stabbing it.  I also have had some butt hip pain.  I've been upping the glycocamine (that's spelled wrong btw), I've been stretching, I've been icy-hotting.

As I ran I kept watching the pace go slower and slower.  My toe was pinching and there was this weird thing going on with my butt hip.  I didn't stretch last night, you know because my running was great and I never icy hot before I run.  By mile 3 I was running so slowly I started walking/running.  That is HORRIBLE.  That is giving up but I was defeated at this point.

I finally finished and on my walk home called Rob and whined.  

See that poster above?  I HATE that saying.  A bad run is horrible.  It makes you want to do a do over later.  It makes you want to quit all together.  A bad run is not better than no run at all.  Not even close.

I went home-whined to Danny and the dogs.  Took a shower, broke out the ice, broke out in a skin irritation on my hip, noticed blood soaked to the outside of my shoe, whined to the Tigre my massage therapist who basically did surgery on my hip.

Tomorrow is another run.  It can't be worse because you can't really run slower than today.  I know this is one of many many many many many bumps in the body (the road is holding up fine) between now and Chicago. 

No commoner has any business flying to Chicago and running a marathon on her 50th birthday for the first time no less.  But since I am -you are going to have to put up with the occasional (I mean frequent) complaining and victories.