I think my body is starting to boycott all these miles. Yesterdays run was supposed to be 17 miles. I was totally mentally prepared for it. I felt good, except for a cough, no big deal. I felt really strong. Well 8.5 miles into the run, SLAM, SLAM, SLAM right into a wall. I thought I was doing a great job of hydrating along the run. Well thinking and doing are two different things. Not to mention all the rash I have from that stupid heart rate monitor. I told John screw wearing that from now, I would know when my heart wasn't beating or at least Tamara would know first!
I am going to blame the weather on this pitiful attempt at calling myself a runner. It was hot and muggy yesterday. Very hot and muggy to be exact. Not to mention I have this problem of sweating. Tamara and I call it "sweating like a stuck pig in a flannel blanket" when running. Everyone around me can by dry and fresh and I am going to look as if I just jumped in a pool. So during this run, my clothes were soaked. I mean my shorts where so wet they just stuck to me and water dripped from them. I had to take my shirt off twice and wring it out because it was so heavy. All the sweating just zapped my fluids I guess because I became dehydrated (so Marisa tells me). We, thank God my running partner is smarter than I, cut our run short by 2 miles due to the way I was feeling and the huge jump in mileage for me. I missed the jump last week due to Tour To Tanglewood. We get back to the coffee shop and I rest a bit, then what...FOOD (I have my priorities). Yes I love coffee and muffins. I decide if I eat I will feel better. Ha, ha, heehee.... My body thought otherwise. By the time I start home, I feel sick and wouldn't you know traffic would be detoured inside. Yes I became violently ill. Linda Blair took over for a while. Needless to say, I did not move much off the couch yesterday.
This week the temperature is supposed to drop and I am praying hard that it does. The 30K we are running on Saturday at Salem Lake should prove to be a test for me. If I can do it then I think I can finish the marathon. If not, I think I might have to find another sport. I cried all morning because I felt so weak and can't imagine finishing 26.2 miles at this point. Oh believe me I want it. I want it bad. But I am not sure my body has the same idea. I am beginning to think my body hates me! Well the feeling is mutual because I hate it right now as well. So there, take that you fat, slow, oh if I weren't writing this for my friends and family to see what I would say about you body!
So here is to hoping for a good week and nice weather! Wishing you all well until tomorrow!