This morning, we started out early–6:15–to beat the summer heat. What we got instead? Humidity. It was like a
fireswamp out there. My breathing was better, but I felt slow and sluggish.
As we slogged along for six slow miles and complained about how uncomfortable we were, I thought about the races I’ve scheduled for the fall: two ten-milers and a half-marathon. I wondered what the hell I was thinking. I was miserable and slow. Then it rained–woohoo, 100% humidity!–and I felt temporarily cooler. But my quads hurt from the speed and hill workouts earlier this week. And my pace came nowhere near a respectable race pace. Distance too, for that matter! Fall races sounded completely impossible.
I’ve been telling myself that this work in the heat will pay off when the weather cools down again. And I know it’s true from training through the two previous summers. But in the moment, when I can barely shuffle along, I have doubts. But then one of my friends commented, “We’re going to get slower before we get faster.” It was kind of a lightbulb moment. Yes, the whole summer we will plod out slow, hot, unpleasant, painful training runs. We will complain and sweat and probably become delirious.
But you rush a miracle man and you get rotten miracles. So we will work hard, and eventually we will get faster.
Anything else would be inconceivable.