Bad day! Naughty day!

I fully admit I did it all myself - I really messed up my day from the beginning, and then dwelling on the start meant the rest of the day went worse.

It was a Ladies 10 km race in Durban on Sunday. Normally I wouldn't take part in a 10 k race at this stage because there is a mar-a-thon on 19 October, but I happen to work for the sponsoring organisation so I signed up, along with a group of ladies from my running group.

Last year, fresh to running, I posted a PB of 56 something (didn't have a GPS watch in those days) and I was really chuffed as it was my first ever sub-60. So this year I was hoping to do better and even enlisted the help of my friend Jo, who is a Duracell bunny and happily agreed to pace me.

I knew I would have to post 5:30 kilometres average for the whole race but started out far too fast and blew, about halfway into the race. the rest of the saga is embarrassing to me and full kudos to Jo for hanging in with me when she should have left me sulking and run off by herself.

I finished in 57:58 which is still okay but nowhere near where I wanted to be. Yes there was a strong wind on the homeward lap, but the main reason I tanked was... my head. I've heard it all before, I've read about it and on the day I did the classic mistake of going out too fast.  I put far too much pressure on myself because it was a work thing and I'm still trying to prove myself there.

And since most people know that I ran Comrades (Do I manage to slip that into every conversation? Is my life pre- and post-Comrades so radically different? Is this the subject of another whole blog?) anyway, since most people at work know that I ran Comrades they naturally expect me to do well at everything to do with running, and to explain the difference between 10k and 89k - well, it would take 89 k. So I try not to.

Anyway, I was very unhappy with myself. I still went out and ran on the treadmill in the gym that afternoon and did really well so I obviously wasn't tired, I should have just kept my head in the game.

From there my day went south. I messed up my sister-in-law's birthday present because I wasn't paying attention, I made a magnificent pot of soup with cheesy toasts for supper - without adding any seasoning at all, and completely forgot to start making the first of my Christmas cakes.

I must admit that the afternoon run, although short, was challenging as I kept increasing the speed, but it helped to clear my head. The run that I did with some friends on Monday morning also helped.

So is that the best remedy in the world - if you have a bad run, go and do it again and you'll feel better? (I should patent this thought).

Happy running everyone!

How do you get over a bad run? (Do you even have bad runs?)
What was your worst race mistake?

The fine line between injury and training hard

Since I started training again, I have been really pushing myself hard. This is for two reasons.

The first is that when I hauled out my scale again after a long layoff, I could have sworn it creaked and groaned as I put one foot onto it. The results were shocking and no amount of leaning backwards until the Leaning Tower of Pisa would have been proud of me, or sucking in my tummy so I could see the figures in all their largesse, would change them.

How could I have allowed myself to put on so much extra weight? I knew I was carrying a little muffin top with me, but a careful choice of outfits mostly hid this from the general population. But FOUR kilograms? That can't all be explained away by additional muscle, much as I'd prefer to.

The second reason is that I never want to be the one that everyone else waits for, when we're running. When I started Comrades training in November last year I was generally able to keep to the middle of the pack, but somehow over Christmas and New Year I lost my confidence and ended up at the back of the pack. From there on I always felt as if I was playing catch up, and never as fit or as fast as the others. It showed in my times, too - in the races that I ran, I would always be slower than I hoped, yet almost the next day I would sail up bigger hills than I had quailed over in the races, and wonder what on earth had kept me back during the race. But then, the mental situation between my brain and my feet is the subject of a whole other blog in the future!

So now I'm training five or six days a week, and sometimes pushing in an extra, short fast run in the evenings as well. I can hear the unspoken thoughts of the people who assume I'm heading straight for an injury, but I am listening to my body and so far it's holding out. The only time I don't listen is when the alarm goes off just after 4 am and it's Thursday and I've had a week of waking up early and I'm doggone tired.

However  I can't see why I should be scheduled for an injury if I am only doing about 60 km a week at this stage, and experiencing no major aches or pains that last for more than day or two. But I do feel strong, tough, and ahead of the curve in terms of training.  My only problem is that if I have to keep increasing my mileage, I don't know how much I can keep increasing it at 10% per week.

How about you? Do you worry constantly about injuries?
How do your mind games play out?