Maybe it's just being tired and sore. But perhaps the soreness should take precedence. I don't know.
I do know that the culprit is likely Saturday's Wooster Brick Run. It took more out of me than I thought it would.
At least I got my (double-digit) miles in today. It sure wasn't easy.
It's a given that GVRAT provided tons of motivation for me to run all those miles. Ever since I've been done with it, I'd been a little concerned about undergoing a letdown. This didn't happen... until this week. 62 miles: my lowest weekly total mileage since March or April.
And it's not like there was a lot of quality, either. There was the race, but that's pretty much it.
Now I'm mad. Next week starts the big push.
Where do I go? It's mile 13 or so (out of 15.5), and I'm downright lost as I run down (and I do mean down) into downtown Wooster. A couple other runners came this way too, but they're now nowhere to be seen. I think I can get there on Bever Street, but it just doesn't seem right. I am currently doing the worst possible thing: just standing there, looking around and wondering.
I decide to run west, through the College of Wooster campus. There I finally see other runners. I'm back on the course. When I hit mile 14, I determine that I probably lost a third of a mile or so. Not to mention the time I spent standing around.
Now I start sprinting down (and I do still mean down) into Wooster. These last couple miles are almost entirely down.
It's not like I didn't pay the price. The hills have been huge. I've done this race before, but I forgot how big they are. And did I mention the humidity? It's about as oppressive as it gets.
I manage to finish in something like 2:24 - a 9:10 pace. The splits were wildly up and down, depending on the hills. I'd thought that maybe a 9-minute pace was doable, but I guess not. I'll take it.
Seeing everyone before, during, and especially after the run was tons of fun. I'd forgotten how much fun racing can be.
Today's run - this time on the Lester Rail Trail - is going just like yesterday's. I start slow, then pick it up (a little) each mile. That is, until mile six. Then it all goes haywire, and I hit a wall of sorts. I only do eight because I'm out of time. They can't all be gems.
Mile 1: I'm at the track, but I almost didn't make it out at all. I don't know why I'm so tired and so sore all the time. This, even though yesterday was fairly easy. Sunday's Hinckley hills and Saturday's long run must be what's doing it. As expected, I run slowly. I had been sort of thinking of doing mile intervals, or else a ladder workout (sets of say, 1600/1200/800). Now I know I will need at least a second mile to wake up.
Mile 2: Things are not getting better. I'll need a third mile. This is not typical of my last few track workouts, by the way. I'm usually getting started on the intervals by this time.
Mile 3: I'm only running marginally faster than I did for my first two. I will need still more time to wake up. I know. It's getting ridiculous.
Mile 4: Hey, I know. Maybe I will just do a tempo run. Maybe I will start that at mile 5.
Mile 5: I'm still not woke. Although my pace has continued to get marginally faster with each passing mile, I'm still not anywhere near tempo pace. Maybe I can still get down to tempo pace at mile 6. On the other hand, perhaps I won't do anything at all of substance today. We'll see what mile 6 brings.
Mile 6: We'll, mile 6 did not bring tempo pace. The pace that I am running has gotten better still, but it's not where it needs to be. Maybe I will just call this an Aerobic Threshold (AT) run and call it a day. But I still want to do ten, and who knows? Maybe I can still get down to tempo pace.
Mile 7: There's one more chance to be able to call this a tempo run. It will involve running each of the last three miles at eight-ish minute per mile pace. This is my best mile yet, but I'm still more than a half-minute too slow. I stop for water and collect myself. Okay, time to fly.
Mile 8: I fly. It's tough, but not quite as bad as anticipating. But can I do two more?
Mile 9: That's one more, and it's even a wee bit faster than the previous one.
Mile 10: The pace is better still, and I complete the tempo run with flying colors.
Mile 10+: I don't have time to cool down as much as I would have liked. I'm exhausted anyway. Not a great run today, but at least it was something of substance. One other thing. With each mile getting faster than the previous one, I can also call this a compression run.
