This weekend would have been so different if I had known when I woke up yesterday how things were going to go.
After last week's long training run (21 miles), we were only supposed to run 10 miles this weekend. I spent all last week thinking about it as "only" ten miles, but when my alarm went off at 6:00 a.m. yesterday, dragging myself out of bed to run for an hour and a half in near-freezing temperatures didn't seem so great. After waking Steve up to complain about how I didn't want to run, I finally got up, got dressed, and grabbed some breakfast. Then I checked my e-mail and learned that my running buddy, Christina, was sick and was planning to run today instead. I was happy to postpone my run for warmer weather and better company, so we planned to run together this afternoon.
Steve and I had a lazy morning yesterday, hanging around for an appointment at the house at 11. But then we got a call asking to push it back to 12:30, so Steve went out for his run and I waited around for the meeting. Steve finished his run and came home as the appointment was ending, and when he decided that he wanted to go out for another two miles, it sounded like a good idea for me to run a couple of miles, too. But then, as we left through the garage, we found our visitor still there, looking under the hood of her car, which wouldn't start. We pulled our car out of the garage and tried to jump-start it...but nothing. We decided that Steve should finish his run while I tried to help with the car, and our guest and I ended up taking out the battery, driving it to AutoZone, and buying a new battery. Steve finished his run just in time to witness the car's triumphant start. Our guest drove away -- and seconds later I discovered that she had left her phone in my car. It wasn't like I could call her, but fortunately she figured it out and came back for her phone pretty quickly. In the end, the appointment that should have been over by 11:30 didn't wrap up until about 2.
This morning, my afternoon run with Christina was still on despite her feeling even worse than yesterday...until she sent e-mail saying that her husband was insisting that she rest. By then, it was too late for me to run 10 miles before meeting a friend for brunch, so I was facing an afternoon run by myself...which sounded like misery. I finally made it out the door around 4:15. While I didn't run the full 10 miles as prescribed, I made it 6.3 miles -- better than skipping the run altogether, which I'll admit to spending part of the afternoon trying to convince myself would be acceptable.
Bottom line? If I knew when I woke up on Saturday what I know now, I would have either run with my training group in the bitter cold at 7 a.m. on Saturday, or later in the morning with Steve before our appointment, or, at the very latest, this morning before brunch. This weekend has been different from most, but I've spent the last four months of my life have been consumed with running, thinking about running, planning to run, and being exhausted from running.
After a marathon, it is recommended to take a couple of weeks pretty much totally off from exercise. I'm sure I'll keep up my regular gym routine and look forward to getting back to our Sunday bike rides as soon as possible, but I'm looking forward to a nice, long running sabbatical as soon as the marathon is over. I'm okay at running, but I'm going to be great at not running.