I used to love my Sunday long run. I'd look forward to it all week. And I'd run extra, almost every time. My running partner was running 10? I'd run 12. She wanted to run 11.5? I'd run 13 or 14. I wasn't trying to outdo her; I just loved to run, loved to keep running, and when we got back to the corner where we met up for the run, I'd just keep on running with her instead of turning to run my own last mile home.
Something's changed. It's not just because I was underslept in bad shoes and t0tally ran out of steam last week. No, this week I was in my usual condition but thought, soon after getting out of bed, "Why am I doing this?" The house was quiet. I wanted to lounge around, drinking coffee, writing a little, reading stuff online, and then maybe go out to breakfast with my family, or eat oatmeal and get the kids out in the snow.
But not run. I didn't want to run. And when I finally headed out, reluctantly, I didn't feel the groove. I wasn't excited. I wasn't happy to be running. I felt strong, and fast enough, but I also just felt like I didn't want to be doing it.
My usual long-run partner, Sasha, had planned to only run 10 miles today. My other running partner--one of my trail-running pals who's started joining us on our Sunday runs--was running closer to 16. Normally I wouldn't have thought twice about staying in for the longer run, but today I was very happy to say goodbye to him and turn back with Sasha. And when we got to the corner, I didn't think twice about saying goodbye to her and turning home. I wanted to slow to a walk and would have if it weren't so cold out.
The cold isn't the problem. And though the shoes I wore today are my "newest" running shoes (which have about 800 or 900 miles on then, well above the 300-500-mile level suggested for running shoes), and are worn flat and smooth on the bottoms and thus have terrible traction on snow, they weren't the problem, either.
It's not just running. I've been keeping up a pretty consistent yoga practice thus far this month (considering the studio's class schedule and my work schedule), and today thought the only class I could get to would be a 5 p.m. class that was a little above my level. Then C announced a change in his plans, thus freeing me up for a late-morning intermediate class. Perfect.
Except I had no desire to go. What I really wanted to do was wrap up in a blanket on the sofa with tea, cookies, and a book, and do not much more than read and sip. I feel like I need to recover from something, but I am not sure from what. I'm not sick. Ben slept through the night last night. I don't know what's up. I just don't feel like doing the Sunday long run anymore. Early-morning trail runs in snow and ice and dark? Sure, usually. But sunny road runs on a Sunday morning? Or even a Saturday morning?
It makes me uneasy, that they are starting to feel like a chore instead of a challenge, something I used to love that I no longer look forward to. Hopefully this is just a little phase.
Maybe I should skip next week's long run, just to see how that feels. I just hope I don't give it up for good.
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