As I sit here typing on this Monday morning, I am still feeling wiped out from Saturday’s long run. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this exhausted by a run. I’m still trying to decide if that’s a good thing.
I ran 22 miles on Saturday as my longest run for the Oklahoma City marathon coming up at the end of the month. I felt good while I was running. I took some hills in the later miles, and kept on my targeted pace even through miles 20-22. I didn’t feel my legs lock up like I expected them to at mile 20. My confidence is in place for the marathon.
I stopped for chocolate milk on the way home, and was disappointed to find that I couldn’t get a quick breakfast. Fast food places were serving lunch. So I headed home, where my daughter was waiting on me to take her to a friend’s house. I took a quick shower, and exhaustion set in while I was putting on my shoes.
I asked my 16 year old son to hand me my drink from across the room. He looked at me and laughed, “Are you that lazy?” I shot him daggers, and my drink was in my hand a moment later. He had gotten my point.
While dropping my daughter off, I stopped for a quick lunch of pizza – which sounded really good after a morning off gels and gummies. I know it wasn’t the best food nutritionally, but I have been doing well lately and I needed comfort food. Caffeine, carbs, and grease (because I had to choose the 4-meat pizza). It was good, but I was still craving something.
I think the worst part of a tough run is needing to eat, but finding nothing to satisfy. I usually spend most of the day trying to calm my appetite. It’s a cruel cycle for someone who still wants to drop a few pounds.
I know that I missed my recovery window in those few hours after my run, and that’s why I still feel the way I do today. I’m just dragging. I know better. I know how I should recover, but I let my emotion take hold of me. I know the importance of refueling properly, stretching, and resting. But I didn’t get that on Saturday. I was on the run all day, and didn’t get into bed until after 11 Saturday night. By that point, I was so exhausted I couldn’t fall asleep.
I now know the effect recovery – or lack of it – has on me and I will make sure that doesn’t happen again (as much as I can with my brood of children).