Despite it being running season and me being in full running mode, I spent this weekend feeling like it was high tri season. That is, I spent a lot of time outside, wore too much spandex and compression, and am sore and creaky come Monday morning.
I started the weekend off right with Friday night Masters swim practice. I hadn’t been swimming since they closed our local pool for maintenance several weeks ago and I really felt it in the water. I creaked and lurched and splashed around with bad form. Still, I was glad I went. Swimming is important! And you need to do it to stay good at doing it. After masters practice, I went home and baked myself some eggplant orzo casserole.
On Saturday I had plans to run my 8 mile long run early in the morning and then go paddleboarding with my mom mid-day, but she texted me early to say she wasn’t feeling well. In a predictable display of foot shooting, I flipped over and went back to sleep. I rationalized this by saying that I’d been up late the night before and surely my long run would go better if I had a few extra hours of sleep. Ha.
When I finally made it out the door it was nearing 11am and it was not the gorgeous autumn day I’d been promised. Instead, it was hot and humid and I was unprepared. I brought 16oz of sports drink,which I thought was going to be more than enough, but turns out it wasn’t even close. My pace was slower than even my usual slow pace and I had to walk a minute or two each mile. There were some pretty sights along the canal I was running on, but overall I was hot and miserable and mostly unshaded. Top make matters worse, my heart rate monitor crapped out on me at mile 4. My heart rate readings were fine, and then slowly my numbers got lower and lower until they hit the thoroughly unbelievable range. I took the damn thing off and resigned myself to no HR data for the rest of the run.
By mile 5.5, I was walking a ton. I took a break at around mile 6 to dunk myself in a sprayer fountain and by mile 6.5 I caved and stopped at the CVS to buy water. God, that tasted good. I thought frequently about taking a Bikeshare bike home, but refrained on account of how pathetic it would be to have skipped out on a simple mile and a half run/walk. Mile and half! The threat of new levels of patheticness carried me home in a dismal 2:10. Where I quickly tried to forget that run ever happened. The rest of Saturday was spent lazing around trying not to feel hot enough to turn the A/C back on, poking at the refrigerator to see if already made food would fall out for me.
Sunday dawn dark and early when The Accomplice, Raoul, and I headed out to Berryville for the Backroads Century 50 miler. I’ll make a separate post about it, but it was a good time! This is exciting because 2 years ago when I did the Backroads I was pretty miserable the whole time.
We swung back into town just in time for me to shower and dash off to a friend’s Emmy party, where the pre-show fashion assessments were much much more important the anything that happened in the actual ceremony.
When I finally made it home, I crashed and slept solidly for 11 hours, feeling very much like a real triathlete.