There are rules in running that are not written in any book. You only learn them from experience.
For example – and I’m not saying this happened to me, but I’m not saying it didn’t either – you might be in the middle of a race and think, “Gee, I haven’t seen a kilometre (or mile) marker in a while. I wonder if it whizzed by it without my even noticing. I must be going even faster than I thought.” You might feel really good about that for a bit, until way, way, way, way (keep saying “way” for 5 minutes) off in the distance, you see a tall sign by the side of the road. Have you stopped saying “way” yet? Okay, now you’re close enough to determine that the sign is actually the damned mile marker. And that makes you, not further ahead than you thought, but actually further behind. Way, way, way (five minutes worth of way) behind. Plus, people think you’re weird because you’ve been saying “way” under your breath for the last five minutes.
Now you’ve discovered one of the immutable rules of running: it’s never as far as you hope it is. If it feels like 10, it’s probably 8. If it feels like 8, it might be 4. If it feels like 4, you’re probably still at home reading the paper.
My experience on last Sunday’s long run illustrated this hard and fast (pun intended) rule. I was haphazardly stringing together a 16K outing, kind of making it up as I went along. I had two options for my route: a short loop that I hoped would add up to a 10-mile run, and a bigger loop I knew was more likely to make the distance. I figured I’d get to the turn-off for the short loop and use my judgment (ha!) to determine if I’d covered sufficient distance to complete a 16K run. But when I’m running, the blood doesn’t flow to the judgment part of my brain. It flows to the part of my brain that hopes sitting down will someday become an Olympic sport. So, I made the short turn and you can guess what happened. Three quarters of the way home, I realized I’d only half the required distance. A more focused and disciplined runner might have turned around and made it an out-and-back. Heck, I’m married to a runner like that. But I guess I figured one smart runner is enough for any family. So, becoming increasingly self-delusional, I added a short detour to my route. It wasn’t quite enough. So, I added another. And another.
In the end, I did manage to keep running until my Garmin registered 16.1K. But by then, my pace was pretty much in the crapper because I had expended so much mental energy figuring out where to go next.
This week, I pointed my body in one direction and ran 9K out, then turned around and ran back again. No short cuts, no detours. Just running.
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