I’ve said before how I’m not very good at slowing down, so you can imagine how much fun I have when it’s time to taper. Yeah. SO pleasant to be around! I’m either gasping and saying “is that a weird pain in my ankle?! Maybe it’s plantar fasciitis! Or a torn ligament! Or DYSENTERY!” or I’m lamenting how huge and slow and sluggish I feel.
So when I saw a little 30 minute run on the docket I thought, just 30? Really? Because if Matt had a say in this it would be about 3 hours and 30 minutes.
(The patience that my husband has, especially with me during race week, is UNREAL.)
We had a storm and then the sun came out just in time for a sunset, so I headed out.
I was supposed to do 4 pickups for 45 seconds to half marathon pace (which for me is about 8 or just under) and after a mile or so I got into them.
I had to really hold myself back. I found that my instinct was to go low 7s.
Then, I was convinced the Garmin was lying to me. The battery was low; surely this was NOT TRUE. I was so convinced that I went to MapMyRun.com just to be sure that distance was really what it said it was.
I knew it would be wrong.
Except, it wasn’t.
I ran just 3 short little miles, but at a pace that felt so natural and easy and even slow to me. Like I was out for a leisurely stroll.
And it was 8:30.
Needless to say, this was definitely what I needed to see.
I don’t know what is going to happen on Sunday, but I just sort of have this calm sense that’s been winning out over the freak out sense, that says I’ve done everything I can possibly do, and deep in there, I can do this.
I think this was my body’s way of reminding me that. That I’ve been here before; that I’ve been scared, that I’ve been reaching for something I actually said before I could never do, that I wondered if I could even do it.
And I did it. I fought like hell, but I did it.
I am starting to really believe that if I can just keep my head in my own head and in each moment--each mile--then I have got this.