Objective: recovery. Oh so slow. 5:20 AM: 37F, wind 10-15 mph, dry. Survey of body parts below the waist: ain't nobody happy. Loudest complainer: the calves, which are so sore that they actually woke me up at night a couple of times when I moved my legs. I might have to carry the Stick around with me all day today.
So I guess I'll be changing my blog title now. I had a little bit of dim daylight towards the end of my run and the birds are singing. I didn't realize how much I missed that. I ran well through the winter and my reward is to know, now and forever, that I can do it.
I wanted to share a little mental trick upon which I stumbled yesterday, but the race report was getting so long that I left it out. But I think it could be useful to others and I certainly will be using it again. You know how so much of distance racing is a mental game, battling self doubts and uncomfortable periods of running? Well, this is something that bolstered my psyche more than once yesterday. I don't know how I thought to do it, but I suspect there is a tiny place in my brain called The Department of Cheerful Thought. Ok, so this is what I started telling myself: "I am actually an 8:30 pace marathoner. I'm holding back right now. I could be running about 30-60 seconds faster if I wanted to. I just feel like taking it easy. 8:30 is my normal pace." In fact, 8:30 is more like my 5K pace, but pretending somehow made the true pace feel easier, even though I knew quite well it was a hoax.
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