The first appearance of doubt

It’s an annual event, doubt has arrived.  I could probably put together a sermon from Our Mother of the Holy Marathon Church on that.  [I’m still trying to think of a good name for this running cult/religion.]

 

Ok, the legs hurt.  Not one of those “it’s good to feel something just to know you’re even alive” kind of annoying pains, but one of those “this might be the beginning of something bad” pains.  I’m not unfamiliar with this pain.  It has happened every year.  The first year around the 60 mile mark, last year around the 50 mile mark (I think), and this time right about the 20 mile mark.  Yesterday it was pretty bad, today it’s not so bad, but still not good.  Hopefully it’ll all be gone tomorrow and I can get in 4 or 6 miles.  I don’t want to overdo it, but maybe I can massage the situation and manage the pain better than I did in the last couple of years.  This is what happened the last couple of times:

I feel the pain coming and fight through it.

Fighting made it so bad I couldn’t run and could barely walk.

Being unable to run knocked me out for a solid week.

When I got back out the pain was gone forever.

 

I’m considering an alternative plan:

Feel the pain coming, and key it back a bit.

Manage the low level of pain until it goes away.

Ramp it back up when the pain goes away without losing a week of training.

 

The problem with option B is that I don’t know how long the low level of pain will hang around and I’d rather run without any pain at all… if I’m going to run, that is.

 

Compound that with the fact that I feel like I’m waaay behind.

 

I probably feel that way because I’m way behind.

 

Over my shaving cream this morning I contemplated the possibility of switching to the half from the full.  Oddly enough, even though I hate running, I really didn’t want to face that possibility. 

…

 

…

 

I need to stop thinking about it.  My brain is doing stupid things because my legs hurt.  I’m getting in my own head.