The unusually warm weather persists. Yesterday I started at 9AM, too late for the 20 miles I had as a goal. The 10 to Cooper City and Publix rest stop was steady but challenging. The entire time I tried to establish a sense of whether to turn and go back or go long as planned. It felt forced; I made a deal with myself and I wanted to see it through- I wanted to see my total miles for the week above 50. And besides, I still needed to break the 18+ mile mark. I thought of Josh's advise to 'sleep' the first half of the marathon. So I tried not to think too much for what I knew brought me to about mile 13. Well on my way back east on Taft, it's a dark tunnel of tough sidewalk blocks until University, my legs and feet already sore. And those were the easy miles. From University to 441, I tried to distract myself through the easier neighborhood streets, as I snake my way further on, but a hitch in my left hip began, which seemed to slide into my ankle and foot. It was at this point I began to take walk breaks. Walking, however, is not running. And I had not previously had to walk at this point before. SIGH. From 441 home I honestly don't remember much. I know I walked a good bit of the last few miles. I had to chunk everything down to single blocks, counting the numbers down. I know it was slightly more than the 18+ because I didn't cut the same corners. But if it was 19, or a bit more, it still took me a solid 5 hours. Barely walking the steps home; crashed on the floor, ate until I couldn't eat anymore; my brain seemed on a strange fuzzy shock of recovery...
Which brings me to today. Thanks, again, to Dave, who said, hey, just do a few easy miles and see how you feel. It's probably nothing serious, just beat up by the distance and etc etc. I wasn't going to run at all. I was seriously thinking of quitting the marathon. How can I shame myself by running 20 miles and having to tank out? If I even get that far.....I puttered and pouted all day. Called the 'support team', and by mid-afternoon felt that familiar tug, the push from my belly and feet, the need to be out on the road...but before I left I took my time relacing my shoes, and thinking about the run. Easy miles, slow and steady. Short, nothing fancy. I thought I'd go to the park and do some drills while I was at it, but as I passed it by, an antiques show was underway; I kept going. The cool brisk breeze was a perfect compliment to the warmth of the sun. So even though it was midday it felt fine, wonderful, full of sunlight and ease. I took Park over to the Emerald Hills stretch feeling amazingly strong. Nothing hurt. I worked on my gait, my rhythm and form.
Until I hit Thomas and the stretch back, I stayed consistent, and then felt some sluggishness hit. Altogether, maybe 6+ miles, and I'm glad I did it. Good to know nothing is wrong with my feet, etc, except that I took a pounding yesterday.
I've been taking quite a beating from the Powers that Be, it feels like, as they stack up the pressure and make sure I pay attention to what I say and do and think.
I'm not usually so disciplined; my creative nature loves to mentally roam all over the place. Running appeals to me because it is pure movement anywhere I want to go in space. It mirrors what I love best inside myself, a completely free space, without constraints. Suddenly it seems everyone is invested in how I'm thinking; and I feel I must get it right- whatever 'right' is. Meanwhile, I note my own rebelliousness as a means of trying to stay free, to recover my own thoughts, ideas and opinions, no matter who you are....
Recovery is regaining a sense of balance. So after 19 or so torturous miles, I can run today and feel a bit of hope come back. It's fast coming up on '08, the hearing, the marathon....and whatever else the Universe has in store. I never realized how deep I'd have to go to swing between the extremes of faith and despair without giving up, until, I suppose, I find that tipping point where whatever distance I've gone, I can still stand on my feet and claim the space with honor, ease and self-respect.
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