6:30 am

Dark Fog

I’m just like, let’s get this going.

Ending 3:09 12:37 pace

And I’m so concerned that it wasn’t faster, even though my coach gave me SPECIFIC directions to go slow.  And it was during this run that I stopped running for the props I get from him, and started running to train, running for myself.  To really improve.  To get that BQ before I’m 60.

I was alone, my partner was sick.

I took off for the first five, down to Shell, to Spring Creek, to Vermeulen park, to Boesch…and where I planned to turn left, I turned right, because the thought of doing 3 loops made me crazy.

I went to the Jack Tone truck stop, to Mistlin park, and took a Gu at mile 5.  I cannot stand the consistency, so the next 5 weeks to the LA Marathon, I’m going to be experimenting with different gels or substitutes.  However, I seemed to have more energy.

Between Mile 6 & 8, I could feel my toes and the familiar numbing.  I think my head started that incessant chatter of “You should stop you know.  It’s too hard.  You have too much more running to go.”

I turned at Santos, and was immediately lost in the fog.  I just had to keep going.  None of the farmhouses looked familiar, and for awhile I was concerned that I was on the wrong street.  It didn’t help that farms had been recently excavated.  I just kept running.  I had to dodge a couple of cars…and am reminded that running in the fog has it’s own pitfalls.  In the rain, cars can normally see you.  In the fog, all of a sudden there they are: headlights.

Turned by Colony Oak, ready to run by Spring Creek again to go back over the overpass and out to the Stanislaus River trail.  I was at mile 10, and knowing I was 5 miles from being finished helped.  A little.

These miles were in the 12-13 minute range, and I was trying to stay slow, but honestly, slower is harder.  I wanted to go faster, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate anyway, so I just kept running.  I had to dodge some dogs, saw some nice people.  But the fog.

When at last I reached West Ripon Road, and was 2 miles away, I started to realize how wet I looked.   My hair was soaked, my eyelashes has drops of water on them, my top was as wet as if someone had thrown water on me.  Out by Canal Street, and I knew I was one mile away.  Knowing how close I was helped. 

As I headed down my street, I felt the familiar power in my legs, the end.  At home, I had an ice bath for my feet, which is hard…but so necessary for my recovery.

My only question during this run was, if this is hard, how can I add 11.2 miles to this?  My other thoughts include some kind of gel substitute…and other technical questions.

But the real question is: Can I really do this?