You may remember a certain TV show in which the theme song went like this:
“You take the good, you take the bad, you take it all and there you have…”
(I’ll give you a sec to stop singing it in your head – IF you are as old as me, and know what show that’s from, that is….)
I’ve found that the song above can be applied to running, too. Most runs I have are great….I feel good, I love the sweat and the feeling of my body moving and using my muscles and getting stronger. However, there are SOME DAYS in which running just sucks. While those days are few and far between for me, they really deliver a mental “punch” to my motivation.
Tuesday’s run was just that – after walking all over the streets of Chicago for 3 days (we were there with the kids, and we had so many touristy sightseeing activities planned – plus we knew we’d be walking everywhere – that I didn’t even pack running clothes), I was anxious to be back on my home “turf” and get a good, sweaty training run in. I planned 4 miles at a 9:15 pace over lunch. At 11:15am, the temp was 77 and humidity was just a bit high (but not chokingly thick) at 67%. There was a threat of rain in the afternoon, so I decided to take lunch early and hit the streets to run.
I had on my trusty Athleta Relay skort and a nice, meshy tank top from Marika that I found for $10 at TJ Maxx and find very comfortable to run in. I strapped on the Garmin and got a signal right away (which never happens on campus – so many buildings around), then started at my usual corner and headed off. Stupidly, I did not stretch out very well.
Right away, things just felt “wrong”. I couldn’t really pinpoint why, but I just didn’t feel right. My stride felt peculiar and I felt like I was really working far too hard for the pace I was shooting for. I told myself to forget it and just run with a clear head and hope things would fall into place in the first mile.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Just before my Garmin beeped to indicate the first mile, I noticed that my right calf and ankle were really feeling weird. The lateral portion of my ankle felt tight as did the medial portion of my calf – I’d never had an issue with either of those two areas before. Since we runners are a stubborn breed, I told myself I didn’t need to stop and that it would just work itself out; however it was really bothersome, so I reluctantly paused my watch at 1.36 miles and stretched my legs out really well. Pace: 9:19.
I unpaused and started running again, and this is just where everything started to fall apart. My calf started to tighten again and I just felt odd and cumbersome – the normal lightness (or as I like to call it, “ninja-ness”) that I normally feel when I run just could not be found. I felt like an elephant in running shoes.
At mile 2 I parked it on a bench and stretched out really well again. Sweat was pouring off my face and into my eyes. I started to feel really upset and discouraged but told myself to suck it up. I looked down at my watch: 9:29 pace. Positive splits, yuck! I got up and started running again. I felt like a lug….I felt like my running skirt weighed about 100 lbs., and my butt was made of concrete. I was shuffling and my legs just didn’t feel like they were working right. I closed my eyes (there was sweat in them anyhow) and told myself to just concentrate on propelling myself forward. I then noticed that I hadn’t removed my rings for the run – I ALWAYS take my rings off. At that point, no matter how much I tried to ignore them, all I could think about and FEEL were my rings. They felt like a 20lb weight on my hand. Finally I paused again, stopped on the side of the road and stuck the rings in the back zipper pocket of my skirt. I started back up again only to find a very distracting, metal CLINKING noise was following me – my rings rolling around in the pocket. AGH. I also became very aware of a slight “flapping” sound that the fabric of my skirt was making. I couldn’t lose myself in the run – I was ultra-aware of everything.
As my watched beeped to indicate that mile 3 was over, I noticed my pace: 9:36. Yikes. WAY positive splits – so very bad. It was in my head at that point….I kept telling myself to just stop and walk the rest of the way, but I knew I physically didn’t have to. My legs were ok and it was all a mind trick. 4 miles should be a walk in the park for me, there’s no reason for me to stop now. My mind was totally having an argument with itself, but as long as my legs kept moving, I was ok.
Suddenly my stomach became very angry, and I started playing every runner’s favorite game: “Is it a fart or is it poop?” It became increasingly obvious to me that if I kept running, I just might have an accident in my skort. I was mortified – I had taken care of “business” earlier that day and shouldn’t be having this problem. WHAT was going ON with me? I slowed down to a slow jog – around a 10:30 pace. All of the focusing on other things threw my breathing out of whack, because not only was my stomach still threatening, but a side stitch crept up on my right side. I focused on blowing out when my left foot struck the ground and tried not to think about the sweat in my eyes or how much this run sucked.
A silver Corvette sped past me – I noticed it was my financial planner whizzing by. I briefly considered flagging him down for a ride, but realized that would be stupid. Plus, I was SUPER sweaty and didn’t want to stink up his fancy car.
I was approaching a busy street. About 100 feet from the curb, I slowed to a walk. While standing on the curb waiting for the traffic to pass, I decided that this would be my “reset” point. I would just try to forget about the last 3 horrible miles and get this last one in with a smile on my face.
I made it the rest of the way without too much incident (aside from running directly to the bathroom once I got back to my building). 4 miles in 38:55 - a 9:43 pace overall. Suck.
I showered and ate lunch and told myself to move on – my sister in law and I were supposed to meet at 6:10PM at the park and do 5 miles together that evening, but it threatened to rain so we cancelled. Secretly, I was thankful. Plus my ankle and calf were still a little tender and I didn’t want to risk injury.
I started to analyze the situation and wonder WHY things went so wrong – I run at lunch all the time and haven’t felt that horrible in a long time. Here’s what I could pinpoint:
- We walked EVERYWHERE in Chicago, and I wore my NB Minimus WALKING (not running) shoes. I haven’t worn them in months.
- We ate a LOT of our favorite “Chicago food” (read: junk) in Chicago – deep dish pizza at Gino’s, Garrett’s Popcorn, ice cream sundaes at Ghiradelli, Chicago-style hot dogs from a street cart, and the most amazing French toast made of lemon poppyseed bread at Yolk. I even had Wendy’s drive through on the way home, and I NEVER eat fast food burgers anymore.
I’m thinking it was the combo of walking everywhere in different shoes (I did notice some fatigue in the front part of my calves/shins and a bit in my upper thighs by the end of the trip) and eating SO. MUCH. GARBAGE. and not fueling myself the way I’m used to. In all honesty, the scale read about 3 lbs heavier than normal when I got home (thankfully, it’s back down to normal now).
I have tried to clear my head this week, and haven’t run since it’s been hella rainy and tornado-y every other day. But I’m racing an 8K tonight, so we will see how it goes! And hey – a bad run is better than not running at all, right??
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