This should probably be the title of every post on here. Or maybe I’ll just rename the blog S.I.D.A.S.I.A. Sounds like a cool progressive rock band.
The running plan I’m currently following hates weekends. Alternately, it hates me, and wants to punish me on weekends. Saturday is usually an “easy pace” 3-4 miles and Sunday is the longer “race pace” endurance building run. Funny how it has you distinguish between your easy pace and race pace. Shiiiiiet, I just want to get that run over with as fast as possible, with minimal walking, and without dying.
Maybe I just don’t remember them correctly, but 6 miles started to become a comfortable, yet still challenging distance. The 7 miles on Sunday’s schedule didn’t scare me until I was about 2.5 miles into it. What keeps me going during 4-6 mile runs is looking at my watch at about the 5K mark and thinking to myself, “See, that wasn’t so bad! More than halfway done!” But I had 4.5 to go, and my brain started going into the bad place.
This is not natural human behavior.
You’ll never be fast and you’re not built for running.
Why are you doing this to yourself?
You look like an idiot and your tan sucks.
I HATE THIS SONG. Come on Pandora.
I want to go home and have a cigarette.
That last thought was the worst. Was I really going to throw away six weeks of training in favor of a disgusting and unhealthy habit? Addiction makes you think crazy things. (P.S. As of this entry I am 62 hours smoke free. That is a new record.) When the ridiculousness of the last thought hit me, I put on my big girl pants and finished. You see, I purposely plan my routes to make one giant loop instead of several smaller ones so that I won’t be tempted to cut it short. I’ll run as far away from my house as I can so that I have no choice but to double back the same distance.
My body was tired, and sore all over like normal, but my recovery time is getting better. The first time I ran 6, I was completely and utterly useless the rest of the day. Laid on the couch in pain with a massive headache as if I was the first person ever to run that far. But right after this run I was able to shower and head over to my aunt’s house for some Father’s Day celebrating with the family.
And finally, the thing that I ate. Yesterday morning I defrosted a package of turkey burger patties so I had no choice but to grill them for dinner last night. I really just wanted to eat bread and go to sleep. Can I just say that I am the absolute worst grill-person ever? Especially with the turkey patties coming apart all over the place. Three of them stayed mostly intact, but one was a mess, so I used that one for a mushroom and provolone turkey burger melty wrap.
Grill the turkey burger for like 80 minutes (shit takes forever), and just before it’s done, sautee garlic and mushrooms in a little bit of olive oil. Place the disastrous turkey burger pieces on the wrap, add the mushrooms (I left the garlic in the pan), add one slice of reduced fat provolone or swiss over top and place it in the toaster for a few minutes to melt.
I’ve got three more turkey burger patties for the week. I’ll probably make some lettuce wrap tacos for a couple of lunches and dinners.