Or maybe that should be misadventures. Saturday was an 18 miler. I did get 18 miles in, just not all Saturday. And my knees are yelling at me today.
I have discovered something over the past few weeks that really sunk in this weekend. I cannot do a long run with my husband. And that is why I did a little over 6 miles (about a 10k) Saturday morning, 5.4 miles Saturday evening, and 7.3 miles Sunday morning. 3 runs to get that 18 miles. Those first 2 runs were fantastic. I felt awesome. The Sunday morning run, not so much.
We had the oldest daughter of a couple of friends with us Saturday morning. I knew she wasn’t running 18 miles. I didn’t expect her to be able to and was not going to try to get her to run that much. She did a good 3. She needed to go to the bathroom and everything was closed at CCCC so the hubby took her to someplace with a bathroom and got them something to eat while I kept running. About mile 6 I decided I wasn’t going to make them sit and wait for another 2 or 3 hours on me to finish.
So I went and did 5 more that evening, or rather 5.4 because even though I was telling myself through the last 2 miles that I only had to make it back to my road, I went ahead and ran that last .4 miles because I was trying to beat the storms. Which is were I will back up and say that I looked at the radar and saw a line of storms around High Point and figured it would take them about an hour to get to us. I also thought I could finish 5 miles in about an hour. It was a little over an hour, and when I got back home and checked the radar again, that line had mostly dissipated.
The 7? Oh, man. I knew it was about 7 miles from my driveway to the other end of Lydia Perry Road and back. I ran Lydia Perry before. It sucked because it’s uphill the whole way back, but doable. Uh, nope. Not when I’ve run about 11.5 the day before. I was tired when I started, and even that whole downhill run was rough. And then the sun was beating on me for much of the way back, and I just had to suck it up and do the walk of shame. Although, there was a sprint in the middle of that walk thanks to a horsefly that decided it needed to bite my calves. I couldn’t outrun it so I decided to kill it. I failed, but I did manage to catch it twice and after the second time it eluded my foot when I threw it down on the pavement, it left me alone.
So, I now need to make myself do the weekday runs this week, and do 14 this weekend. In less than 5 weeks, this will all be over. No more long runs. Until the Tar Heel 10 Miler.