We have things to talk about. Important, critical things.
Last week I finished up all of my hard workouts, 800's, mile repeats, everything went according to plan. I felt awesome, things were going swimmingly.
Of course, I was careful to monitor my recovery. Snowbank ice baths included.
|Sitting in a snowbank is cold and stupid.|
On Saturday I began to experience my normal phase of 'OMG. I'm broken" phantom taper pains, which I have grown to love over the years and more or less ignore.
Here are a list of my favorites:
-sharp stabby ankle pain
-a funny feeling in my foot that is tendontis *for sure*
-sick. gettin' some kinda sick.
-bad feelings in general
I have learned to ignore all of that nonsence and move along with my damn day, ain't nobody got time for that.
FOR REAL YOU GUYS!!!
OK, ignore those panicky caps.
I did have a pulled muscle in my thigh. I knew how I got it (horses, curse you!) and I was smart enough to call it a day and not act like some kind of ninja hero.
Monday I was 80% better.
Tuesday I was fine.
Crisis averted. Until the stabby pain comes back, that is.
I plan to continue my snowbank recovery methods and excellent foam rolling techniques to avoid as much real life pain as possible.
|Quality time on the roller. Silly pets. UGH!|
So, in a truly shocking internet moment I am ready to declare my finishing time prediction.
-According to the McMillan calculator my 800's indicate that I shall run this race in 4:41:00 which is just absurd. Hahaha! I got slow!
-According to the McMillan calculator my 13.1 time indicates that I shall run in 3:23:00 which I see as optimistic. Boston is crowded. Has hilllllllzzzzzzz. Is 26.2 miles long. CRAP.
But honestly, the takeaway story from this is that I suck big time at 800's.
On a sidenote it has honestly occurred to be to leave Hopkington at a BLAZING pace and see how long I can maintain it, just for shits and gigs (but I won't do that. that would lead to certain death at mile 16 or, best case scenario, projectile vomiting and the worrying feeling that I might crap my pants which I would prefer to avoid. who knows why..) If doom was not a 100% guarantee, or is a marathon was only a mile long I'd definitely be down for this time of tomfoolery. However, in real life no thanks.
I will close out my blog of profound thoughts today with a preview of my future...
A future event that I am delight to be experiencing with a few of my favorite Maine runners!
(Chicago isn't ready...)