Yesterday was a tough run for a few reasons. Firstly it came after 12 days of work in a row with late nights pretty much every night. So that meant no mid-week running, and no running for a week. I also did not realise I was going to be running in a gale.
I missed my 11 miles last Saturday so I said I would try and do 12 yesterday just to make sure I was ok with the distance before my half-marathon in 2 weeks. I was in bed early on Friday night and didn’t set an alarm so I woke when I woke and had my breakfast.
It was a nice morning, 8 degrees felt like 4, and mixed sunshine. I decided to go down the canal and home via the Phoenix Park.
I was taking off my layers by 2 miles as it was warm in the sun but I plodded along at a decent pace for the first 6 miles or so when I cane back up the canal and crossed into the Park.
I made my first mistake at that point, by wrongly estimating the length of the route in the Park, so I added about a mile to my route home. Only a mile you might think but I felt annoyed with myself.
All was lovely in the Park, sunny, quiet enough and I felt good at 8 miles. I knew there was a wind blowing but I seemed to have avoided it so far, or it was at my back. I turned into the main drag of the Park and the gale force winds hit me in the face. Well felt like gale force – very strong and coming right at me. Gusts of around 25 mph I think.
My heart sank. I knew I would have at least 2 or 3 miles of this before I got to the exit of the Park, where there was a chance that the wind would be blocked by some of the houses. The wind was brutal and exhausting. I struggled through mile 8, turned off my watch and walked a bit. Ran through mile 9 and that got me to the end of the Park. I turned off the watch again and walked a little bit out of the Park, which has a bit of an incline. I was seriously considering going down to my parents house and ringing my boyfriend for a lift home, but decided against that. It was a bit pathetic and I’d been through worse and I would never live it down. So I kept going back through Castleknock village and took a left turn into a housing estate to get home. I thought that a 90 degree turn would mean I avoided the wind, but no, no matter what direction I turned the wind was in my face. And then it started to rain. I thought I was going to start crying. I got across the train tracks without delay and eventually got to my stopping point, about 5 minutes walk from home.
In the end I ran 12.46 miles and probably walked for about a half a mile off the clock. My times slowed for the last few miles but it just felt so much harder. I know the point of training runs is to experience these things but what do you do on race day if there is a gale blowing in your face? You just have to adjust your attitude I suppose and get on with it.
My coach Mary Jennings has written a book on running and she is great on the mental side of things. She always reminds us how lucky we are to be able to run and that we never know what is coming around the corner that would prevent us training for any race. So I was thinking that when the going got tough – imagine this was my last ever run, wouldn’t I be savouring it and taking it all in? I wouldn’t be bitching and moaning and threatening to quit. I would be making the most of it. So as usual running is a mental game as much as a physical one.
Running offers so many benefits and perseverance and fortitude are among them. Another reason to love running and be grateful for it, especially on the hard days.
