The final long run before a race is that one last chance to simulate race day. And you can either try to do everything right, or you can try to do things wrong.
I chose to try to sabotage myself and see what happened. And it was awesome. 🙂
See, my prior 20 miler was what I considered training for the first 20. Yesterday, I trained for the final 22.
You know, those miles where you are hot. And tired. And cranky. And hungry. And stubborn. Those miles where everything hurts and you want it to be over, but you refuse to quit until you’re done.
So I kinda didn’t fuel properly pre-run. I wanted to get out as early as possible, so I only had coffee and a banana.
I also wanted to see if I truly need compression socks/sleeves, so I started out without them.
Both HUGE mistakes. And I am so glad I made them, cuz I certainly won’t do that in two weeks. 🙂
I ran a set of loops of decreasing size. So that way I could check in on my hubby in between. And also have a pit stop/refueling in between.
Lap 1 was the biggest, a 7 miler. And it was lovely. Still cool and slightly foggy. And scenic.
Lap 2 was one of my usual 5 mile routes. But now it was a little steamier. Blech and nearing mile 10 I was questioning the lack of compression gear. And questioning myself.
And then I looked down. And froze. Because, this had to be a sign from above.
And post lap grabbed some GU brew (which will be on course – so figured I’d better try it), enduralytes (yes, I am so not loyal to one brand. Lol), and gummy bears.
And headed out on lap 3. Which was going to be 5 miles.
And one mile in I realized “dammit, I forgot to put on my compression sleeves”
And two miles in I realized I was roasting and better start practicing my walk intervals.
And four miles in I called the loop. I needed those sleeves. And some brew and some food.
So now properly attired, hydrated and fill of sugar (gummy bears yay!!!), I headed out to complete my final six miles.
With a 1/2 mile walk, 1 mile run pattern. And a variety of sprinklers that I was so grateful for.
I know my pace continually slowed as I went along. And I didn’t care. Because I was going to finish whatever it took.
And I reminded myself “It doesn’t have to be fast. It doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to be.”
And I did it…
I’m cool with that average pace.
Because I have three goals for Anchor Down. 1, at least 40 miles (which gets me a medal and a PR). 2, a pipe dream of 50 miles (because it’s totally insane and badass). 3, have a spectacularly memorable time.
And oddly? I’m not nervous, I’m not worried. Because I know I got this. And I can’t wait to try.
In twelve days I will try…:)