A Run Where 3 Miles Felt Like an Eternity

You know a few days ago when I was gushing about how easy my eight miler was and how I was sure I'd have an equally sucky run sometime in the near future? Well I was of course right! Today's run was just that. Three miles of pure torture.

THREE miles! That's all. Did I mention a marathon is 23.2 miles MORE than that? I'm screwed. I was in hell. My legs felt like lead. Sweat was pouring into my eyes and I couldn't breathe. My garmin wouldn't "locate a satalite" and then when it finally did it told me my pace ranged from 5 minute miles to 35 minute miles. Now I know my pace varies quite a bit with my walk/run method, but it generally doesn't vary THAT much.

And the worst part of it? I just wanted it to be over as quickly as possible so I could hang out with Petey. Of course, since I wanted it to be over quickly it actually meant it would take me a whole heck of a lot longer than I thought it should have because that's just the way things go.

Oh well. It was miserable but I completed it. And Petey was still there when I got home, and ready to try and lick all of the sweat off my legs. Dogs have a weird idea of what constitutes something that "tastes good."

Hopefully my long run this weekend (9.5 miles, eeeeek) won't be quite as miserable. But even if it is, I'll make it, because well, I've committed and I'm not giving up until I cross that finish line on November 6th.