Don't Dis the Distance

I discovered today the high cost of a little disrespect.

I’ve had a lot of success over the past few months. 15 miles, 17 miles, 18 miles - no problem. This week was a step back week, a shorter long run of only 13 miles in preparation for bumping up to 19 next weekend.

13 miles, I thought, that ought to be easy.

I didn’t respect the distance.

I haven’t run that specific distance since a half marathon back in February. My pace has improved a little since then and I thought I might even be able to improve on that time. I basically planned to run at my race pace, ignoring the fact that it is 30˚ warmer now.

I didn’t respect the distance.

I knew I was going to be running for 2 hours, I was down to one gu packet but I figured there was no need to pick up any more. After all, I didn’t eat anything during my half.

I didn’t respect the distance.

As I planned my route, and my hydration, I figured I would drink water for the first 5 miles and refill with Gatorade when I pass my house. One 22 oz bottle should be able to last me for the last 8 miles of the run.

I didn’t respect the distance.

I overslept. I hit the snooze on the alarm clock and rolled over. It was just going to be a 13 mile run, I thought, a late start won’t matter. It was almost 7:30 when I hit the road, and already about 75˚.

I didn’t respect the distance.

I made it 10 miles. I was completely spent, and for the first time in a loooong while I stopped running and walked. I gave myself a few minutes to recover and managed to start running again. I made it to 11 miles and gave myself another, slightly shorter, walking break. I was disheartened at mile 12 as I squirted the last few drops of Gatorade into my mouth. I also had the chills, despite the heat, a symptom of dehydration, and I was a little worried about getting home safe so I allowed myself another brief walk. I finished the rest of the last mile without stopping and managed to tack on a little extra to make it 13.1.

I got a little bit of a lift shortly after making the final turn onto my street. A Jeep passed me that I had also seen at the beginning of my run. I overheard the driver exclaim – “I saw that guy running when I left earlier!” I was grateful he didn’t drive by just a few minutes earlier and catch me walking.

I finished in 2:24, 8 minutes slower than my half marathon 3 months ago. I checked the thermometer as I staggered into the house and it read 82˚.

I learned a hard lesson.

I will not dis the distance again.