Trusting How You Feel

Yesterday, I had an idea. To run from my home to the ocean and back.  I'd been thinking about it for over a week.  The idea of running on the trails was really at the heart of the idea.  In some ways, the distance was somewhat of an afterthought.  I'm really at a point in my running, where going out and running over twenty miles probably wouldn't add too much value, but also wouldn't prove anything to myself either.  Yet, I had the idea.  There is something about trail running that is freeing.  For me, sometimes too freeing. I get so lost in the run that I've tripped and fallen on more than one occasion.  I stubbed my toe once yesterday, early in my run, reminding myself to pay attention to the ground in front of me.  It's actually not too hard to pay attention to the ground in front, while enjoying and taking in the surroundings. It's all about trusting how you feel.  

The one thing I did compromise on yesterday was to start walking steep climbs very early into my run.  Of note, it really didn't slow me down much, which is something I learned from my friend Robert Key.  In fact I found myself maintaining a rather comfortable 10 minute per mile pace throughout the first half of my run.  Of course, in total, that part of the run had a gentle decline throughout, except for one mile with a pretty steep decline.  In fact, just before starting that portion of the run, at about 4 miles, I took a photo. 

Off on my run, I enjoyed the mountains and the trail.  I got lost in the feeling of running.  This was really important, as it's something I've struggled with over the past 6 1/2 months.  Getting lost outside of my obsession for everything COVID-19 has been a challenge.  But I knew that I was ready to appreciate the surroundings and the feeling of running.  When I got to the 8 mile mark, I thought it was worth stopping for a photo.  This was where I'd normally be done with my daily run.  Today, my run was just starting. 

I had brought my mask along and put it over my face whenever I came across another hiker or mountain biker or runner.  The only runners I happened upon were four young men who clearly were competitive runners.  I had brought along four bottles of fluids in a fanny pack.  I didn't quite appreciate the impact that would have on my back until I went to bed and noticed how much my back had been bothering me, while the rest of my body had tolerated the run pretty well.  There was a time when my legs would have been quite sore from this type of run.  I will admit that my quads felt a little sore as I got near the beach, which was ~11.25 miles from the start of my run.

I almost walked, on the sand, to the ocean, but didn't want to grapple with sand in my shoes for the run back.  So I just took a few minutes to enjoy where I was, before heading back home.  As expected, the quad soreness disappeared the moment I began the return, and primarily uphill trip home.  It quickly became apparent to me that my pace on the way back was no slower than 11 minute pace, making my average pace for the whole run somewhere around 10:30.  Ironically, this was the pace of my 8 mile hilly runs when I began doing them nearly 3 months ago.  Running at this pace was comfortable, and that was the point.  There was never a time during this run, at least until the one major climb coming up, when I ran hard.  It was all about trusting how I felt.

This photo doesn't begin to capture the steepness of the climb ahead.  I power walked up the climb and intermingled some short bouts of running.  I didn't want this to be easy.  I was 18 miles into my run and I felt the need to show myself that I could run up a steep climb.  When I crested the top, I kept running for the next couple of miles, getting off the trail as I neared mile 20.  I had another half a mile to go before I got to a climb that I do every day.  Today, however, I was going to treat myself to walking up the climb.  I'd already done 20.5 miles of running, and I knew that when I got to the top of the climb, I had a mile of downhill running that I could test myself out on.  Which I did, managing to run down "mile 8" of my daily 8 mile run at around 9 minute pace.  That was ok today.  I walked up my short climb at the end to my house and sat down in my front yard, caked in dirt. 

I still haven't decided what to do today.  Another routine 8 mile run? Rest? Walking? A shorter run? I don't know, even after writing my blog.  I'll just have to trust how I feel.