On Saturday I was supposed to run 20 miles according to my training schedule. In reality, I ran about 11 of those and had to walk the remaining 9. This was entirely my own fault. See, I had been out at the going away party of a friend of mine on Friday night and, while I managed to curb my alcohol intake, I still managed to stay out until 2am. Needless to say, I wasn't thinking quite straight when my alarm went off at 7 for the longest run of my life up to this point.
My first thought when I woke up was "all right, let's just get this thing over with", so I wasn't exactly a fount of positivity. Still, I could have at least had the presence of mind to eat a little something before I headed out, but I was feeling spiteful and maybe a bit self-destructive, so I just decided that I was just going to have to suffer through a 20-mile run on an empty stomach.
In point of fact, I couldn't even go 2 miles on an empty stomach, and before I knew it, I found myself outside a gas station scarfing down a Snickers bar (omgittastedsogood). That seemed to hit the spot and, my mood much improved, I found myself actually starting to enjoy the morning's run.
About 5 miles in, the stomach cramps started. I tried to ignore it as long as I could, but by the time I got to mile 10, each bounce sent me into pure agony. Eventually I decided to take a break and walk for a mile. Walking meant less bouncing, which meant less pain. By mile 11.5 I was ready to start running again, but barely made it through mile 13 before the stomach cramps flared up again. I decided to cut my losses at that point and just walk the rest of the way home, dejected and feeling like a bit of a failure.
But hey, at least I didn't give up entirely and get the train back. My legs still hurt today, and I've got the kind of chafing you only get from long-distance running.
My first thought when I woke up was "all right, let's just get this thing over with", so I wasn't exactly a fount of positivity. Still, I could have at least had the presence of mind to eat a little something before I headed out, but I was feeling spiteful and maybe a bit self-destructive, so I just decided that I was just going to have to suffer through a 20-mile run on an empty stomach.
In point of fact, I couldn't even go 2 miles on an empty stomach, and before I knew it, I found myself outside a gas station scarfing down a Snickers bar (omgittastedsogood). That seemed to hit the spot and, my mood much improved, I found myself actually starting to enjoy the morning's run.
About 5 miles in, the stomach cramps started. I tried to ignore it as long as I could, but by the time I got to mile 10, each bounce sent me into pure agony. Eventually I decided to take a break and walk for a mile. Walking meant less bouncing, which meant less pain. By mile 11.5 I was ready to start running again, but barely made it through mile 13 before the stomach cramps flared up again. I decided to cut my losses at that point and just walk the rest of the way home, dejected and feeling like a bit of a failure.
But hey, at least I didn't give up entirely and get the train back. My legs still hurt today, and I've got the kind of chafing you only get from long-distance running.
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