The Worst Run Ever

Justin:

So last week's long run was not only the worst run ever - it was, without exaggerating, one of the worst experiences of my life. It left me physically drained for several days and mentally discouraged. After 2.5 months of steady, if imperfect, training it left me seriously doubting whether I would be able to complete my goal of running the Baltimore Marathon this October. And while I have recovered physically after a week of nearly constant eating and drinking, I have yet to regain my confidence.

So, what happened? Well, the previous week I ran a solid, relatively painless 13-mile long run. While not an impressive distance, it was by at least a mile the farthest I had ever run. Not only that, it left me feeling pretty confident - so confident that I felt ready to bump it up to 16 (my lucky number) the following week.

Too much fun the following Saturday, however, left me feeling dehydrated, groggy, and uninspired for most of Sunday. As a result, I decided to postpone my long run until Monday after work. That said, by Sunday evening I was feeling recovered and restless - so I decided to go for a quick 7.5-miler - very quick as it turned out. I crushed it and it felt awesome.

By the time I got in, cooled down, and cleaned up, however, it was getting late - so I grabbed a quick pb & j sandwich for supper and called it a night. (For those of you keeping score at home, I believe we are at mistake number 3...?)

So the next day after an exceptionally long day at work, having eaten only one meal, I got home and relaxed in front of the tv with a couple of friends until around 8 pm. That's when I decided, my last meal having ended exactly 7 hours prior, to hit the pavement. I was feeling awesome. And while I didn't have any water with me, as I am (unlike my roommate) far too cool to wear either a backpack or belt, I had it all figured out. My plan was simple: instead of hydrating continually throughout the route I was going to run my 7.5-mile route twice, stopping half-way for a drink. Brilliant, no?

No. As it turns out, there were several problems with this plan. First, my 7.5 route is, in my opinion (and you are free judge for yourself), quite difficult. While it features two steep (but relatively short) downslopes, it also features two exceptionally long hills including the nearly 2 mile (and very steep) Embassy Row stretch that runs up Mass Ave from Dupont Circle to the National Cathedral. Moreover, the downhill stretches are almost too steep to be of any benefit.



Second, and probably more importantly, this plan forced me to run the second 7.5 miles on a sip of water. For the last 5-7 miles all I could think about was the giant bottle of icewater that I was going to kill when I got back. For the last 3-5 miles I saw water everywhere - but not a drop to drink. In fact I became so desperate that I nearly stopped another, better prepared, runner and asked them for a sip of water.

So if by now you've concluded that I am an idiot, I'm sure you're not alone. But there's a little more. To add to my already considerable woes, I chugged around 5 glasses of icewater and - due to my considerable (and much-deserved) stomach pains - did not eat all night. This, added to the litany of previous mistakes, made for a very exciting night indeed.

So, as I ponder my next long run - now less than 24 hours away - I wonder, will I be able to finish? What will I be feeling tomorrow at this time? Oh god...why do we do this? Ciao.