When the stars align...

I will admit- I was in a rut. 

The past month or so, I have been less than excited to lace up my shoes and set out for a run, no matter the distance. Was it the unbearable heat just finally winning our epic battle? Perhaps. Whatever the case may have been, running slipped to the bottom of my list of priorities- even below folding laundry and washing floors. Yikes!

This past Saturday, my training plan had me running 18 miles. But I was realistic with my expectations and would be fine if I made it at least 13. Having not been on a long run (anything over 6 miles) in nearly 4 weeks + dental surgery + excruciating heat, I did not want to push myself and end up hurt.

But then I saw the weather report for Saturday.

And then my mouth magically stopped hurting.

So when I woke up on Saturday morning at 5:30am, I was strangely optimistic.

I am telling you, the stars were aligned. Everything was perfect. The weather was mild, slightly overcast so the sun wasn't frying my skin off. A slight breeze keeping me cool and bringing that lovely diaper smell of the Mississippi River across the land. I felt amazing, both mentally and physically. Everything just fell into place.

I did a 9 mile loop back to my house, refilled my water bottles, downed a Honey Stinger, and set out for a few more miles, having no definite direction or distance in mind.

Dude. Check it.

DAMN! That is one sexy wrist... OH, right, the mileage, that's cool too.

No, I did not hold a 9:40 pace the whole 18 miles. Who do you think I am? A damn roadrunner?! I averaged about a 10:40 pace, which I am totally fine with. I picked up the pace those last .2 miles when I could finally see my front door and knew I wasn't going to die on the side of the road and never be found. I was excited.

This is why I'm hot.

I only have a stall shower, so I cannot take an ice bath after long runs. So I improvise. Ice pack wrapped on 1 knee. And, why yes, that IS the ceramic insert to my crockpot that I am soaking my feet in! Can't say I'm not innovative. (YES, I washed it! Don't be afraid you will get a toenail in your food the next time you come over for dinner. Besides, I don't even HAVE toenails anymore after all this long-distance running, duh.)

This is exactly what I needed to pull myself out of that RUT. Not the ice bath, the run. The ice bath is torture. But the run, THAT WAS EPIC. I know running isn't completely a "use it or lose" it practice, but I still tend to panic even if I miss one training run. Something comes up, I miss a mid-week 4 miler, and it's all "I'M NEVER GOING TO MAKE IT 26 MILES! I MAY AS WELL QUIT NOW! I HAVE TO START FROM SCRATCH! I AM A FAILURE" No. That is just my fantstical mind being stupid, once again.

7 weeks till Chicago. B-b-b-b-b-b-b-bring it.