Soooo, snow kinda sucks, right? I think there was probably a point in my life when it was fun and exciting and “yay, a snow day!”
But not anymore.
And for real, I work in education. Like, I get the snow day, too. I should probably appreciate those…
Snow makes me semi-homicidal. Which is odd when you consider that…
- I was able to sleep in three days in a row
- I was able to read two entire books for my #GoodreadsReadingChallenge
- I was able to do every day of the new 80 Day Obsession Week One workout program
- I was able to eat through most of the food in my home
(I know this last one seems odd, but it’s actually something I’ve been wanting to do for a while. Eat through all of the random food that has been hiding in pantries, freezers, and cupboards for a while. Like, maybe months. Years? Ok. Yes. Years. Some of that food was many, many, many years old. And I ate it. And here I stand, sit, lie…only moderately nauseous.)
But today was the first day this week that I managed to get out and run. That’s a problem. In three months, I will be running 26.2 miles in America’s Toughest Road Marathon…twice. That’s…ok, this part always gets me…because math…but I’m pretty sure it’s like more than 52 miles total. Like, at once. Like, twelve hours straight of movement? I’m estimating here. Again, math. I ran the 26.2 in 5:16 last year, so twelve hours is probably about right. Right? (That’s more than a full work day. Of running. What have I done…)
If I’m gonna #runblueridge … twice … I HAVE to get in at least 40 miles a week right now. So far this week, I’ve run seven. And not even all at once.
I had a nice 13 mile route planned. I headed out the door and up the hill beside my house. I made a left turn to get in the first six miles. I made it 1/2 mile up the road before confronted with a solid sheet of ice. Initially, I thought I’d just push on past it. But after miraculously landing the triple lutz I ended up in, I decided to turn back and try the other direction. I made it about a mile before hitting another stretch of ice. Seriously. It’s, like, 55 degrees out here. I can manage this. Just keep going. You need the miles!
Noooo. What you NEED is to avoid injury and you’re in no way prepared to manage the near death-spiral you ended up in on this second sheet of ice. (Apparently those are easier to manage with a skilled partner.)
So, I again turned back. I tried one more turn where I managed another mile or so before hitting the final sheet of ice I was willing to encounter.
Four and a half miles. That’s what I managed this morning. That wasn’t nearly enough, so I decided to just stay in my running gear and try again later after the warm air had some time to dry up the ice. While I was waiting, I went ahead and did Day Six of 80 Day Obsession. That sucked. (Which is to say that it was effective.)
Do you know what happens when you stay in a sweaty pair of running tights and a sweaty running bra for two hours after your actual run? Yeah, it ain’t pretty. So, when you head back out to get in another eight or nine miles, there is…chafing. Like, immediately. That mess starts right from the jump and it gets worse with every step of the two and a half additional miles you manage to suffer through.
I got in seven today. Tomorrow, I’m looking at sixteen. In Roanoke. On the mountains.
And I just want it to not be this…