Failure

Day 39–6.25 Miles

Last night I was forced to have dinner with a client and some people from work. I was tentative about this because of this tempo run I had planned today. The plan called for a 7 mile tempo at a sub 7:30 pace. Up until today I have been on target with all my strength and speed work. Not to mention I have been running for 35 and now 36 consecutive days. After yesterday’s run, I was worried a little about how I would react to the humidity and the wear and tear on my legs.

The client dinner was at a steak house downtown. I managed to avoid having any alcohol despite the objections of those around me. It is amazing how people who drink somehow feel alienated by being around someone who doesn’t. I really feel for anyone that is in recovery because it is a bullshit aspect of socializing that somehow we need an alcohol lubricant. I mean it was Wednesday night in August and everyone looked at me as if I were crazy. All the miles I piled up these last five years have built up this confidence so I don’t really care if people question me. The confidence in those decisions and sacrifices are built every morning when I am covered in sweat. I can try to explain it but it comes down to the fact that I have been drunk and sleep deprived before and as fun as that can be, I won’t give up the pavement and the sweat in the morning for it. So given the choice on a delicious single malt scotch or my tempo run, it wasn’t hard to make the decision. And it definitely didn’t bother me to get teased about it.

I did get home a little late and slept in slightly so I had a later start. But I was determined to make it out so I went through my normal routine knowing I would late for work. I grabbed a hand held water bottle because I could sense the swamp like temperatures creeping through the walls and windows. During the initial mile warm up I was worried that getting down to a 7:25 was going to be a problem today. Between the heat and the now infamous run streak, my legs were telling me I didn’t have the juice to sustain that pace. I’d like to say that I rallied and somehow I found some extra reserve in the tank. But this time there wouldn’t be anything special that would burst out. I pushed for about two and half miles and then I needed to slow down. At five miles I knew it was time to head home because this wasn’t going to be a tempo run or at least one I could brag about.

I was annoyed at myself. Was it last night? Should I have been even more cautious and eaten a little less? Should I had just skipped that silly four mile run on Wednesday? Two years ago, I would have been slightly panicked and nervous at this result, worried that I wasn’t built for this. Today that nervousness didn’t exist. Annoyed yes, but the benefit of running is I always have tomorrow or even tonight to take more miles in and help supplement that confidence. There is a foundation now, so even a bad run won’t tear that down. And this failure can feed the next run.

I showered and lingered a bit in the air conditioning as my body was begging to cool down. I got dressed for work and strolled outside with all that confidence adding an extra hitch in my strut, that confident walk that only a runner can understand.