Last night I did something I absolutely hate doing: I aborted my workout. I saw it coming. Last week I pushed and pushed until I just barely crested over the 71 mile mark for the week. Last week was the longest week I’ve ever done … on paper. But I lied to myself. I told myself that I was feeling fine and a few more miles would be OK all for the ridiculous purpose of seeing 71.5 in my training log. Whoop deee do! I wasn’t ready for 70 miles. I was having a great week until I foolishly pushed through 9+ miles on Friday and then another 18 on Sunday. Why I couldn’t be happy with 60+ miles I do not know.
This week I’m paying for my foolishness. My run on Tuesday, which is normally a medium length and feels very good, was bad. My legs felt terrible. Knowing that I was tired I planned for a recovery run and I stuck to the plan but I was dismayed at how poorly my legs felt. Later that night (last night) I went to run with GVH. I almost didn’t go because I knew I wasn’t ready for an interval workout. I even called Mary from the parking lot hoping that she’d tell me I should come home. Instead she reminded me that I often have poor runs the afternoon before I go to the track. So I tried.
I ran a surprisingly good 2 mile warm-up. But when the workout started I knew immediately that it was not going to happen. I could have pushed through it, and in the past I would have. But I felt the weakness in my legs and pain creeping into my shins. I stopped after the first set of the workout and went home disappointed in myself.
Why is it so hard for me to skip a workout even when I know it’s the best choice? Though I remain disappointed that I didn’t complete the workout I know it’s a better choice than needlessly pushing through a workout and risking injury. I believe that most injuries come from running on tired muscles (and not from sneakers, lack of sneakers, or running on hard surfaces). It would be very hard to forgive myself if I couldn’t run Disney* or Boston.
* because I’ve already dropped more than a grand on Disney