Last Thursday, I woke up at 4am so I could run 20 miles on my birthday.
Figured it would take me just under 3.5 hours and managed to get out the door by 5:45 AM. It was chilly but not terrible, about 18ºF and the windchill about the same. Since sunrise wasn’t until 7:15, I started out with a headlamp because it was dark. But when it did start getting light … unff, that sunrise was perfect. I laughed to myself wishing I had stashed a pair of sunglasses on my person.
Overall, the run went surprisingly well. That said, there were a couple of pain points. As you can see from my splits above, I nailed the first 15 miles. Like no prob bob. But after the 15 mile point, I wasn’t doing so hot. Now here’s the part that blows my mind, makes me laugh, while also really annoys me: My legs weren’t shot, my lungs felt fine, and at the 20 mile point, I could have kept going… except the balls of my feet felt raw.
By mile 6, I noticed a slight discomfort. By mile 10, they felt bad. By mile 13, I was done.
This is an ongoing issue and have felt it on every long run over 10 miles in the last 4+ months. Part of me thinks it’s been going on much longer, but it wasn’t until last Sept/Oct I started doing double digit runs multiple times a week. I’ve tried different shoes, different socks, but always the same issue.
But I finally think I’ve nailed the problem: forefoot strike. I do. I do sooooo much. Too much, really. Next few runs I’m going to work on transitioning to more of a midfoot strike and see what happens. And that’s, that!
It wasn’t until this morning, 3 days later, that the accomplishment really hit me. This time last year, I was strugglebussing around 12min/mile, with run:walk intervals. On Thursday, I continuously ran 20 miles, 10:30min/mile pace. I’m so proud of how far I’ve come.
No one told me to do this. No one else pushed me, I did it on my own accord. I’m not training for anything right now, but I went out and did it. I just fucking did it. WHO DOES THAT. Run 20 miles, FOR FUN?! I’m a crazy person. I’m officially one of those weirdo runners, who A) runs for fun, and B) runs 20 fucking miles because they feel like it.
The honest, honest truth here, is it will be something to look back on. 27 was the least birthday-like-birthday to date. I’ve just moved somewhere new, don’t know many people and didn’t exactly try to plan a party. Instead, I ran 20 miles, worked all day, had a casual dinner with my cousin, and back to an empty apartment. I don’t want to say it was lonely… but, well… it was lonely. Whatever. The run was great. It was something I did for myself, and I’m excited about it.
andulkaphoto
dededos
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