Third Eye Blind

Marathon Training Week 3

Miles: 24.36, Yoga Classes, Literary Classics, and Badass Haircuts: 1

This week started off with a “Fun Workout” listed on the training schedule. I don’t know about you, but my preferred fun workouts usually involve 12-oz. curls and a sporting event. It was time to broaden my horizons so I found a Yoga studio close to my house that had nightly classes that fit perfectly into my schedule. I dusted off my trusty mat and signed up. It was the first time I attended a yoga class in a proper studio – usually the classes I attend take place at the library or a gym.  It was serene, peaceful, dark, and full of local stay-at-home-moms in leggings and trendy shirts shouting peace and serenity. I felt a little intimidated, not gonna lie; but I surprised myself with knowledge of poses than I did not know I possessed. We stretched, we meditated, we down-dogged. I stared into my third eye. It stared back. It was hungry.

Lane and Mommy
Lane and Mommy

Tuesday was just an easy run. But I was sore: yoga sore. My core, my arms, my back. All. Of. It. S.O.R.E. I expected to be sore the day after yoga, so I popped some Advil and went on. Matilda went to work with Daddy on Wednesday, so I Lane and I had a special solo day. It’s such a treat to get a day alone with one of your kids. We cashed in some passes to Flamingo Gardens and chased the peacocks.

White Peacocks!
White Peacocks!

I ended the day with a daring move: trying out a new hairdresser. The guy who cut Matilda’s hair last week must have uttered the phrase “I love cutting hair” three times while primping her in the best fashion. Not bad for a guy on the B-shift at SuperCuts. My short locks were reaching mullet status, and my regular hair stylist is on maternity leave, so I bet on Brian. He did not disappoint.

Badass haircut.
Badass haircut. – selfie doesn’t do it justice

Thursday was my dreaded Tempo run. And I really did dread. I didn’t sleep well the night before, and even though I ran at a quite quick pace (for me), I couldn’t keep it up for 2 miles. I made it 1 mile and change — which was better than the last attempt which had me sucking wind at  1/2 mile.  I trudged the remaining miles beating my shoes and humility into the pavement.

When Friday came around — I was STILL sore. Yoga sore. All. Of. It. S.O.R.E. OMG, shoot me SORE. I popped some  more Advil and shortened my route to eek out 3 miles to just shake it out. Didn’t help. Instead, I curled up with a classic novel to refresh my literary memory before diving into the long overdue To Set a Watchmen by Harper Lee.

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I had actually been looking forward to my long run on Saturday: a chance to redeem myself and prove internally that I can get this done. Obviously, I am more comfortable with a sustained effort than a hard one. And last week’s 10-miler was – dare I say – easy. How hard could it be to add 2 miles?  Foolish, foolish me. I managed to have a great run up through mile 8, where I stopped to by some water and refuel. I was killing it! But as I turned to head off for the remaining four miles, my energy took a nose dive. I started missing my intervals because I couldn’t keep track of the vibrations on my watch. I dragged and was out of my head; but I finished.

I spend the next 45 minutes floating in my pool, glad that I had to fill it with hose a few nights ago and it was actually cool (not always the case in Florida in July). It took me a few hours to shake off the jitters and form a cogent thought. Also, I will not recommend hopping into the car for a 7 hour drive after a long run – unless you stop half way for a beer. And conch fritters. Everything is better with beer and conch fritters.

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Next week is family vacation and a cut back week. Any advice for trying to balance training and having a fun time?

Until then: Namaste, bitches.

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