Keep Moving Forward

Let me recount today's 5k disaster while it's still fresh in my mind.  I guess I should start by saying that this week's running has been the least focused since the comeback began five weeks ago.  This lack of focus wasn't due to anything other than life stuff.  I hadn't been getting enough sleep.  I knew on Friday that I was going to be in trouble for today's race.  My legs were like lead on Friday.  Last night, I went to bed at 1:30 AM.  It wasn't a deep or peaceful sleep.  I woke up at 6:30 and was out the door by 7:00.  I suffered from gastrointestinal discomfort (if you know what I mean).  I did a half mile warm-up and then waited for the start signal.  I was already perturbed from the stomach issues and then I realized that I couldn't find my sunglasses. 

The race begins and I don't hear any music in my headphones.  I take my phone out of my Ifitness belt and try to figure out what's going on while maneuvering through the mass of people.  I'm wondering why some runners think they need to be at the front for the start when they obviously are going at a pace that justifies a back of the pack start.  I zigzag my way through the pack thinking I got the phone application working again, but then the music cuts out.  Now I'm really irritated.  I take the phone out and try again--nothing.  Angry, I put it back in the belt.  Tired, stomach discomfort, no sunglasses, no music = me unhappy.  I settle in at a comfortable pace.  Because my phone app isn't working, I don't know what that pace was.  I had intended on starting out slow and then trying to get comfortable enough to pick it up the last two miles.  I go through the one mile mark, but I couldn't hear the time that the guy whispered as I crossed.  Now I'm on the verge of a breakdown.  Why didn't I buy the watch I've been looking at?  What to do now?  Do I stick with the current pace or pick it up?  I slowly pick it up.  I'm getting tired.  There's the sign for mile two.  Okay, let's pick it up some more and bring this disaster home.  What did that guy say, 17:??.  Seventeen plus for two miles, we really have to pick it up? 

I'm steadily picking people off and that feels good.  My breathing is a little labored, but I'm okay.  I round the corner and look ahead to the last half mile and my spirits sink--it's a steady incline to the finish.  This was an out and back course, so I benefited from the decline at the beginning of the race, but failed to notice it because I was busy messing with my phone.  Alright, let's just keep it steady and use the arms.  Wow, I need to do some hill work.  I'm really slowing down.  Two people just passed me.  Almost there.  What?  No.  Come on.  A woman pushing her kid in a stroller just blew by me.  400 meters to go.  Try to kick it in.  I go faster, but not enough to be confused with a kick.  I spot the finish line clock.  25 minutes.  I did worse than the last race.  This is really disheartening.  I cruise across the finish line in 25:33.  Taking off 3 seconds for the time it took me to cross the starting line leaves me with an even 25:30. 

I'm really discouraged.  I think about all the things that went wrong, and realize that, were it not for the last 800 meter incline, I would have beaten my time from the last race.  Another positive was that this time I felt much better during the run.  Last time, it was a grind the whole way.  I drove home and ran another two miles to round out this weeks total to an even 20 miles. 

After 5 weeks of mileage building, I need a cut back week.  That week couldn't come at a better time as I'm going to Disneyland with my family.  I'm thinking about cutting back 20%, which would mean 16 miles for the coming week.  The problem is when to do these runs.  It looks like I'll have to get up early and do my run before we go to the parks.  It'll be nice to have a change of scenery.  I'm hoping that this recovery week will prepare me for longer and harder runs in the following weeks.  My feet feel really good, so I think it's time to take the gloves off and really start training.  I'm gonna take this bad race and wash it right out of my hair (if you get that reference, you're at least 30 years old and watched a lot of t.v).  I'm going to keep moving forward, and make this vow to myself--No more being passed by baby strollers!