Training day: Long run countdown

We (me and my bum legs) are back on the horse. After three weeks of no running, and a slow build up the long run ladder, I am back where I left off: at 16 miles.

Alright, that's padding it.

Let's back up.

A month and a half ago, at the near-peek of my marathon training, I made the mistake of running on a treadmill and injured my calf (insert: fist shaking at treadmill).

I put running on hold to mend this puppy through torture sessions with massage therapists who said helpful things like "it's a necessary evil" and "I'm not sure how long your long distance running career will last." I guess that's why they stick to massaging muscles instead of egos.

Two weeks later I tested out a long run that recalled leisurely Saturdays of yesteryear, like, say, June 2010. I made it through seven miles, heaving and hoeing, but, alas no major muscle eruption (mini hallelujah). Yup seven sad but successful miles, just five weeks before the marathon.

Buck up, buttercup.

The next week I ran 11. Huffing and Puffing, but 11 nonetheless. I returned to the long-distance-really?-therapist for a turn-muscle-into-pulp session and she said I didn't have to come back and maybe I could "run this thing yet." I hobbled out.

Yesterday I continued to up the mileage. I strapped on my sneaks, stretched and dithered about the house avoiding the inevitable, then set out for my planned 15.6 mile run. But the thing is, it was hot. Like, no way this is September hot, and all my waiting around set me up for a long ass run during the hottest part of the day on an empty stomach (woo hoo?). Little suburban streets turned epic and fuzzy as I placed one foot in front of the other. I made small but important deals with myself:

"If you can make it to the end of Pine Tree Drive you can walk up the next hill."

I had to run up the next hill.

"If you run up the next hill you can stop instead of doing that extra little loop."

You better believe I ran up that next hill.

Somehow I pulled one tuckered leg after another to complete a not even-close to marathon distance 14.3 mile run.

But onwards and upwards people. Today, on request of my training torturers, I tried a bikram yoga class, which is supposed to help with deep stretches and all those things.

I've done bikram once before and I did not recall it being so bad. But then again, time heals all wounds. So I limped into the already scorching room with my small, lukewarm bottle of (in hindsight) precious water, lay down my mat and towel and got to sweating.

I learned a few things during this adventure:

1) Bikram classes are 90 minutes
2) I can sweat a lot and the sensation of bending forward while sweat drips down your face and up your nose is a lot like drowning
3) It is best if you eat something before sweating the weight of a small child from your sleep-deprived body
4) Water, more water

I'm sure it was helpful. I'm sure I stretched my body in ways that was not normally possible. I'm sure I swallowed a little bit of bile at the end of that last pose and I'm sure I saw a few black spots while filling up tiny water bottle at the fountain.

So, now that I'm fully stretched, completely exhausted and permanently dehydrated, I am ready to conquer my last two weeks of training.

The week ahead will hold three days of longer runs, which means earlier and darker mornings. I will also try to cram in one more yoga class before my next long run.

Saturday will be my last attempt at a pre-marathon long run. We're talking 18-20 miles, people. But I'll be in the city, I will have my broken-in-but-still-new sneakers and, hopefully, cooler weather on my side.

I hate to admit it, marathon, but I am beyond ready for you to be over.

The good news? I'm not that crazed marathon-addicted person. See? Learning new things about myself at ever turn.
xoL