I am ridiculously glad I ran a solid nine-miler last Saturday, or right now I would be having a panic attack.
Last night’s training run felt pretty awful, even before we got to the hill. I’d gone to core class Monday night, and my legs were feeling the chariot-pull exercise we’d done with resistance bands and a partner.
Plus it was hot again–in the 90s–and I’m still struggling with my breathing. Recipe for disaster, no?
I ran the two miles to the bottom of the hill. I actually had to take a couple of walk breaks–ugh. At one point I thought I heard someone coming up behind me, but then I realized that sound? Was my own wheezing. Ugh again.
We were supposed to run 4-10 hill repeats. Because I have a race on Sunday, and because my knee is still a slight question mark, I went with four. From there, I
ran wheezed through a three-mile loop back to Rogue for a total of 5.5 miles.
I felt horrible. I was slow and sluggish the whole way, and exhausted by the end of it. If I hadn’t had such a terrific long run on Saturday, I know I would be panicking about the Army Ten-Miler right now.
I’ve got one more training run on Thursday, but I’m going to take it easy. My knee did not like the hills and it’s feeling a little funky today, so I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize Sunday’s race.
Next up: D.C.!