This morning's run sucked. I got up early to start at 5am and do 10 miles of hills - it was dark, there was barely a moon, no breeze and it was humid as all hell. I was the only one stupid enough to be out there (and I really didn't want to be), my energy was low and my legs felt dead. But when I'm dragging my sorry ass through a low point at mile 80 at Cactus Rose I will remember the times over this long hot summer when I had the chance to quit but didn't. That will either spur me on or confirm what an idiot I am.
10 miles was all I was planning on because I didn't want to leave Nancy alone for too long. I have found that summer running falls into two categories - sometimes the miles come easy and sometimes they just suck. This morning was definitely the latter - I found myself soaked after the first climb up Smokey Valley. While I'm not too happy with my running form at the moment I've been doing this long enough to know that I don't want to be peaking this far in advance. So I will continue to click off the miles, ignore the pathetic pace which I seem to have settled into (though this morning's time wasn't too far off what I usually run that route in) and continue to maintain my base. I have no doubt my speed will return come Autumn.
Of course, there's always that little voice in my head that keeps taunting me - "how did a donkey like you ever run 100 miles back in February", or "I thought you claimed to be a good hill runner, so explain to me why you're walking, you jackass".
That's alright little voice, you just keep on talking. It'll be all the better to shut you up come October.
Hmm, when I start plotting revenge on myself it's definitely time to go lie in the shade with a nice cool beverage :-)
Or better still, watch the Tour de France and enjoy other people suffering.