If this blog were actually the children’s show Sesame Street, the word for last week would be “bust”.
Does Sesame Street even do a word of the day/week?
Whether or not that’s an actual segment, last week was a total bust. In more ways than one.
I had to delay my long run until Sunday because I went to Dallas for an appointment and forgot a jacket to run in. And also appropriate pants. Oops. But I had more than enough time Sunday to get out there and pound out 7 miles on campus.
My plan seemed to be working perfectly during Sunday afternoon. I picked up a sandwich for lunch and then took a nice long nap before dragging myself out of bed and dressing myself in my running getup. I also remembered to bring Sport Beans that my mom had sent me in the mail. These were watermelon flavored and contained caffeine, so I thought it would be a good idea to try them out before the race. Remember, kids, never try something new on race day! And if you’re planning on wearing brand new shoes for a race, you might as well just take a razor blade to your feet because there will be blood everywhere anyway.
I ate three beans and then started my run.
Three-quarters of a mile in, things were not going well.
When you want to puke 6 minutes into a run, you can kind of guess that things may not be going your way that day. But alas, I kept going and finished my 2 mile loop in a slower-than-average time. Mostly because I was trying to self-diagnose my sloshy stomach as I pounded the pavement.
I thought I might have been hungry, so I ate two more beans and then took off on my loop again. It was at this time that the wheels really fell off the bus. I began suffering from horrible calf tightness that reckoned back to my early days of running during which my calves would get so tight that somehow circulation got cut off to my feet and they went numb. (I am not a doctor, but this happened in 3 races, and ever since I started taking walking breaks, I have not had any numbness. Riddle me that.)
So, let’s regroup. I’m trotting around an an embarrassingly slow pace, trying not to puke in the lawns of any historic homes, and wishing I could slice my calves in half because my addled brain thought it would relieve the tension.
During a walk break, I texted B about my ailments, who promptly told me to stop running. I told him I didn’t want to be a failure.
I basically just waited for him to console me with “You’re not a failure!” before I slowed to a walk completely and turned around for home.
I thought about blaming the Sport Beans, but I remembered I had a package of them before a 5k once and was fine. Those didn’t have caffeine, so maybe that was the catalyst for my misery.
However it happened, 7 miles turned into 3. A terrible, awful 3 miles that capped off a terrible, awful week filled with tears, frustration, and not a lot of running.
But it’s a new week now, and things are going better. I made myself stick to the plan and not add in an extra long run this week. I have not cried once, and it’s already Tuesday! And tonight I ran a totally respectable 3 miles at 10k goal pace.
So let’s move on with our lives now, and leave the bust of last week behind.
Total mileage for Bust Week: 5 miles