I used to fear the long runs. Then, I started liking the long runs. Then I became obsessed with them, they were a huge part of my week. Sometimes they went ok. Sometimes they kicked my butt. But there were always amazing when they were over.

My long runs had became an necessary and common evil. I never knew how to do them right, but I got used to them and that was fine.

 

No more.

The monster is dead.

 

The first long run I did this year was pretty much a disaster. I then took over a few weeks later and had an OK 18 miler. Then a great 20 miler 2 weeks ago, even with temps in the 20s. I was rocking it at the end.

 

This weekend we had a 16 miler.

Busy weekend, Blaise and I started at 3 pm, I had had oatmeal at 7 am, then 2 pieces of toast and a Dunkin Donut Oreo Cookie Coolatta. I think less food works on me works better. Sugar and caffeine. Yeah.

 

First 6 loop was on. On the second one, Blaise started pushing the pace. He usually does, and I make him back off because he tends to fade later and I have to push him. Or because I can’t hang on. He’s gotten a lot faster than me, you see? This time, I just shut up, let him push, and tried to keep up. I was doing fine. Then I realized, it’s gotta be the speedwork. I do speed in the week with the bf, which is helping my endurance, and so I can keep up with Blaise, which is making my long runs a lot better. If I couldn’t keep up with Blaise, who knows what sort of crappy long runs I’d be doing? And if I wasn’t doing speed with the bf, I wouldn’t… you know.

I have just been trying to catch up for 8 months, and I think I am right there. Maybe. I think. Fingers crossed. Berlin is in 8 weeks and might even book a flight and a hotel and show up!