It’s kind of misleading to say what I did yesterday was racing. It was more like a mellow long run that happened to be chipped and timed.
I felt great cruising along at my happy pace so I just didn’t really push it at all. I probably could have come in under 1:35 if I really tried. (I know it sounds like I’m saying, “I could have, I just didn’t feel like it!” and I hate it when people say that, but it’s true.) I didn’t push. I didn’t race. I just ran. And I’m okay with it. This was a training run, meant to assure me I’ll be ready to do 13.1 next month, so it served its purpose.
Some things I did accomplish:
- A PR. Two minutes under last year’s 15k time for my best 15k pace ever. I’m sort of at the point where I’ve been running long enough to show some solid improvement, but not so long that my best years are behind me. I think everyone probably goes through this “every race is a PR” phase. It doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot, but I still like it.
- I ran in my Kinvaras and they did me proud. When I bought them a few months ago, I had some trouble adjusting to a shoe with less support, but I loved the lightness so much I stuck with them — and now I’m glad I did. I’ve been able to run farther and faster with absolutely NO bunion pain whatsoever. I was starting to think aching bunions after every run was just going to be my life — not so!
- I tried to “run the tangents.” When I ran my first marathon last year, I ended up with 26.6 on the Garmin due to my sheer allovertheplaceyness during the race. Yesterday, I tried to run as efficiently as possible and only came in about .07 over.
- I ran 9.3 miles and it felt easy.
This morning, I did a very mellow three-mile recovery run and then basically spent the entire day on the couch eating and watching trash. (Hellooo Hills marathon.)
OMG I MADE FOOD OUT OF A BOX OMG.
A lot of you people think you’re too good for boxed food. Then one day out of the blue you make some Jell-O or some Stovetop stuffing and you act like it’s hysterical. “Lookie! I’m eating what trashy people eat! TEE HEE.”
Well, screw that. I didn’t run 12 miles this weekend to slave over a hot stove making high-brow organic homemade three-cheese macaroni casserole that may or may not taste any better than neon orange powder from a box.
Mmmmm, Yellow No. 6.