Tomorrow morning I have a 1mi warm-up, 4mi tempo, and 1mi cool-down.
I've dreaded tomorrow's run for the past 48 hours. I'm nervous. I'm anxious. I find myself trying to think up excuses why I can't do it.
I'm traveling. What if my route isn't lit/safe? I don't really know the area, maybe I should just treadmill it. Oh gosh, four miles at an 8:00/mi pace on a treadmill. That would mean no stopping. For FOUR MILES. That's like 40min. That sounds awful. Maybe I'll run it tonight. But it's hot out. And I cross-trained in the morning. I shouldn't double up workouts. Maybe I'll just do an easy six tomorrow.
It's not the distance that freaks me out; I'm not dreading the 15mi LSD with Brandi this weekend. It's not the speed that freaks me out; I love the burst of exhilaration I get from pushing hard on repeat days. I only dread the long workouts, the 6-9PRO or ONB that #10KTuesday is going to eventually encompass and the tempo runs on Thursdays. Why? Because they're mentally really hard.
I have to go into the workout knowing that I'm going to be fighting the whole time. There are no recovery intervals. There are no breaks. It's simply a "do" or "do not" sort of situation. If I don't execute the workout, no one really cares. I'll just have to continue on knowing that I didn't do it right... because I chose not to do it right.
Throughout my five years of running, I've had one race where I was truly disappointed in myself. There have been a few races I didn't hit the time I wanted (like Peachtree 2013, where I was going for an hour and crossed at 1:00:03, or the handful of 5Ks I tried to break 25 at early last spring), but none of those really hurt. The worst race I had was the 2014 Atlanta 10 Miler.
My goal for the race had been to finish under a 9:08/mi pace (what I needed for my sub-2 goal at the half marathon the next month). Brandi and I lined up with the 1:30 pace group (9:00/mi). The Atlanta 10 Miler is hardest course I've ever run. The hills are brutal, and they just keep on coming. I hated every minute of that race.
I lost Brandi before mile 3, when I had to stop for a bathroom break. Did I really need to stop? I still don't know to this day whether I would have actually wet my pants on course or if I knew Brandi was faring better than me and used "I have to pee" as an excuse to split so I didn't have to keep up with her.
When I got back on course, I was still hating everything, but I caught back up within sight of the 1:30 group. Brandi had already surged ahead like the champ she is (between the two of us, I've got the kick, but she's got the endurance), so I was still "alone". That meant the only thing keeping me going was myself... and I choked.
I walked two or three times during the last six miles of the race. Did I need to? No. I just wanted to. Really, I wanted to stop, but that was a little much, even for me, so I walked. I let my mind give up.
I finished in 1:30:40, still a good bit under my 9:08/mi goal (especially if you consider that time includes the bathroom break), but I wasn't proud of that time because I realized that time wasn't my ultimate goal. What I'd really wanted was to prove to myself that I could "do it", and "doing it' to me was more about doing my best than hitting a specific time. I'd let myself down. I gave up on that last hill... and the four or five before that. That was what really bothered me: that I chose to give up instead of fighting.
Literally no one cared that I'd walked. I still wound up with a great time. I still met my time goal. That's what's on the internet- not the fact that I choked. But I know that I choked, and that is why that race still gets to me.
When I trained for my first marathon, the thing I was most proud of what the mental fortitude I developed. I came to believe in myself more than I ever thought possible. After all, when you get up at 5am on a weekend to go run 18 miles solo for no other reason than the fact that it will get you closer to a goal that only you care about and you really get nothing other than personal satisfaction from, you've really reached a new point of mental stamina. If you can find that discipline, that determination, that drive within yourself, then you truly can accomplish anything.
I don't know if I "want a 4-hour marathon" bad enough to push all the way through training and the last 26.2 miles on October 9, but I do want to be able to say "I did my workout" tomorrow and "cross that shit off" the training plan. So, I've got a 5:30am set, a route mapped, a handheld full, and a sweet disco vest ready to boogie on down. Let's do this.
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