If I had to grade myself on this Week’s Hansons Marathon Training with Colby, I’d give myself a big, fat “C.” Welcome to Medicore Ville, can I take your sub par order?
Gah. It was like I studied all damn semester, popped a Red Bull and crammed for the test, only to bomb it. I still ran ALL THE MILES. I even nailed my pace during The Dreaded Tempo Run. But Intervals? Fail. I bombed that test. It certainly wasn’t The Final. That’s Boston. So what was it? A quiz? A mere 5% of my grade? So, why did I beat myself up about it all week then?
I tend to think about marathon training like a series of tests, which you study for allllll effen semester, each one building on what you’ve learned and retained all semester long. The final of course, is cumulative. This week I had a bad session of intervals. A bad stomach (I’m looking at YOU New England clam chowder), a busy, screwed up day and the wrong workout entirely contributed to my “failure.” It was a Trifecta of Suck. I was convinced my GPA had plummeted. I was bummed. After a series of panicky texts to Tina, my BFF, she said something that calmed me.
Boom. There it was. Training. It’s training. And it was rough. And I didn’t fail. Why? Because my BFF told me so. That’s why. Calm, plainly and oh so, pointedly. And she’s right. I put so much pressure on myself. Unnecessary pressure. It’s not an Organic Chem final. Or the goddamn SATs. It’s one workout. Chill. Out. Sometimes I think I need to train my mind, more than my legs. Does Hansons make a training guide for that? I’m a hot mess. Let’s get on with the running…
Monday: Easy Run, 6 miles. Pace, 9:15. Yawn. Not a great run. Not a bad run. It was just “Meh.” And it was on a treadmill. And my sports bra bit me. See? I should have just stayed in bed all week.
Tuesday: Intervals, 7 miles total. 4 X 1200m, 400m recovery, warm up/cool down. 7:35 pace for two, then it went to shit. Literally and figuratively. I am blaming this on the chowder. Nothing like a hot, heavy cream and clam based soup prior to make you SPRINT to the loo. Bad. All bad. It was even the wrong work out. It was supposed to be 5 X 1000m. Goofed all around. But it’s training right? I will say that I did cover the miles. So there’s that.
Wednesday: RESTFUCKINGDAY. 0, miles. Zero chowder.
Thursday: Tempo Run, 8 miles total. 6 miles at 8:35, warm up/cool down. Even though this was a strong run, I was still bummed about my Intervals. I know. Build a bridge, Colby. And get the hell over it.
Friday: Easy Run, 7 miles. Pace, 9:17. My legs felt like sausages, but otherwise it was good. It was really good for Drunk Otis. He got a new baby!
Saturday: Easy run, 6 miles. Pace, 9:20. Run, hair cut & color and a Surprise Birthday Party for one of my oldest and dearest friends. Such a great day! Jonna is the friend you could not see for 5 years then get together and not miss a beat. That’s my Jonny. I adore her. And cherish our decades long friendship.
Sunday: Long run, 12 miles. Pace, 9:22. Cold, icy and moderately hung over, this run was beautiful.
Total number of miles run: 46 miles
Number of bowls of New England Clam Chowder consumed: 1 too many
Times I doubted myself: 100
How do you deal with a “failed” workout? Do you beat yourself up about it all week or just suck it up? New England, Manhattan or Rhode Island clam chowdah? Go!