Rescue Me (AKA Week 17 of the NYC Plan)

Dear Taper,

 

I heart you.

 

No, seriously.  I SUPER heart you.

 

Now that I was able to figure out the trip to NYC, things have been cooking right along on the training front: relatively little pain or fatigue; no real injuries to speak of; regularly logging 5-8 hours of running a week (30-40 miles most weeks). Did a half and a 15k as training races - didn't PR at either - but had some great times with my 800 repeats and the best mileage I've ever completed.

 

This is also the most consistent I have ever been with my marathon training.   I ran the MAJathon and felt like a champ running 26.2 miles over two days.  I even learned to love certain things about treadmill running.  Big change from last year, when I was both sick and injured and had to run my long run just 10 days prior to the race (not even 2 weeks - 10 days - which essentially put me running my long run only a little more than a week pre-race!)

 

And then it happened.

 

I made a Rescue Call for the first time in years.

 

 

I had dropped weights the week of the half marathon and tapered down to just running.   It was Week 17; the last long week of the plan. I had 40 miles to complete, including 16-18, then 2 on Saturday (what I call the Double Down) and another 4 Sunday. I had decided to meet some old running friends for 11 of the 16-18 morning miles on Saturday morning. 

I knew I was tired, I have a little of The Dead Leg, I've been running a lot, and it's time to Taper.   The group started out faster than I like to start, but I figured I'd leave them after 11 miles, back off a little, push through The Tired and come out the other side like usual.  But I felt like I was working so hard and my heart rate was barely in zone 1/2.  That's when The Tired got me.  And that's when the Rescue Call was placed.  (Well, Rescue Text.)

Come get me. I can't run anymore.

Then I went home and climbed back in bed for a while.

I was having an awful hypo spell.  I forgot they could be this bad. My B12 is a little low - Story For Another Blog - I missed my thyroid meds that morning (fell right out of my hand and I found them on the kitchen counter) and well . . . I've been killing it.  I used to do speedwork once a week; now I do it twice. I am running more miles, faster, than I ever have when training for a marathon.  Let's not forget The Story For Another Blog stuff  like grad school, merging cat households, the family . . .

And you know what?  I am glad this happened.  It told me a couple things.

First, that I needed a rest.  So I took one.  You can't always just push through The Tired.
Second, that this JUST happened (The Tired) mere weeks before the marathon.  It happened when it was time to taper.  It didn't FORCE my taper.  (That has happened before, nearly every time.)

In fact - I don't want to jinx myself by saying it - but I haven't even gotten really sick before this race like I have in the past.

Fingerscrossedfingerscrossedfingerscrossedfingerscrossedfingerscrossed

I am SO ready for that taper.

If this is a Rescue Call, then I am calling my ass off.

Maybe not Calling Gloria, though.