running: the dawn

There’s about a million blog titles that I thought of while running today:

“The worst 20 miler ever”

“The day that running betrayed me”

“Why do I do this to myself?”

“Isolated and alone”

OK, so maybe I’m being a little melodramatic.  I may have been way into theater in high school and college.  I may tend to over dramatize my every day life.  I may embellish stories to make a point.  But I do know that this will go down in my memory as one of the hardest runs that I have ever done in training.

It started this morning while I was sitting on the couch watching the snow fall like crazy.  For hours.  A fresh 2 inches of snow did not make me want to get up and go.  At one point in time, I think I was actually curled up in the fetal position on my bed telling Mr. Dawn that I was NOT going to run outside today.  But then it stopped snowing and I knew that I would feel more accomplished if I went out and faced my fears.

My main fear was that I was facing this 20-miler all by myself.  This would be the first 20 miler since 2005 when I was training for my first marathon.  Since then, I’ve been blessed with running buddies on all of my long runs.  There have been long runs that I have done some or most of the miles by myself, but my longest solo run stood at 16 miles.  Until today.

By the time I actually started it was snowing again.  Not much, but enough to make me wish that I had goggles or glasses or something to protect my eyes.  I started passing the time by counting how many snowflakes landed in my eyes.

On the positive side, I love my 20 mile route.  I’ve run it 3 or 4 times in the last year, and I just LOVE it!  I zig-zag through the back country roads heading in one direction for only 2 miles at a time.  I never run on the same section of road more than once and I get to run on some pretty killer hills.  The furthest section is my favorite, a dirt road that winds around a beautifully hidden lake.  And with the snow, I dealt with very few cars.

Mentally, I was beat before I even started.  Usually I get into a nice groove a couple miles in and feel like I could run forever.  That “zone” never came today.  I felt each step.  I had to decide to pick up and put down my feet every single time.  At first my laces were too loose, then I tightened them too much but didn’t want to stop and fix it.

I ran out of water at mile 11.  And that is what broke my spirit.  I texted Mr. Dawn to let him know that I’d reached the turn around and was headed home…but I was running on empty.  Three miles later I lost all faith in myself.  I desperately wanted something to drink and felt like a complete failure.

I have never felt this isolated during a run.  Running is usually a friend, and even when I am by myself I never feel alone.  Except for today.  I hadn’t seen another person in two hours.  I felt so lonely and defeated.  I badly wanted to sit down in the snow bank and just cry.  I pulled out my phone to text Mr. Dawn to come and get me and while I was fumbling with the keyboard, I got an incoming call from him.

“Where are you?” He asked.  I croaked out my answer.  “I’ll be there in a minute.”  He brought me water.  He told me that I was going to make it.  I drank half my handheld, filled it again, stretched my legs, and started to believe his words.  One thing I love about my husband–he has learned exactly what to say to me as a runner.  He never says “You’re almost done!” or “Its easy” or “You’ve done this before!”  He knows to say, “You are looking strong,” and “I believe in you.”

The last six miles were no cake walk, but I felt so much better after seeing him and getting more water.  I always end my long runs about a half mile from home so I can walk a bit.  Today, this was NOT a good idea.  That walk home was miserable.  My legs were completely dead and it was all I could do to keep from sitting down.

I got home, took an ice bath (Mr. Dawn had also stopped to buy me ice!), and ate.  I’m starting to feel more like myself.  But I’m sure I won’t soon forget this run.  Luckily I have a step back week coming and three weeks until my next 20-miler.

During a hard run, what do you most NEED to hear?
I mostly need people to reassure me that I don’t look tired, that my form is still strong, and that they believe in me.