Well… I got out there, did the 25 minutes, and within a few minutes of stopping, felt OK.
But the contrast between the last run, which felt easy, and this one, which is best described as ‘battling’, felt disappointing. I knew I hadn’t ‘cracked it’ and not all 25 minute runs would feel easy henceforth… but, but, but… maybe…
I had intended to run yesterday, but work was busy and I ended up finishing later than planned, and not carving out some time to eat. I have been doing the 16:8 fasting for the past few weeks (eating within an 8 hour time frame every day and just water/herbal tea/black coffee outside of that). It was almost 3pm and I had an hour before a 2-hour meeting was due to start. I was at the door in my running togs and suddenly realised that I really, really needed to eat. So I deferred.
I’m climbing later today and there is work to be done before, so the run had to happen early. I started work early, then shot out the door into the grey day.
I thought I’d try not looking at my watch. I do have a habit of checking it frequently, and that doesn’t feel very zen (my fantasy of the pinnacle of running).
It was OK for the first 5 minutes or so, but instead of easing into the comfortable part of the run, it started to feel harder, and that discomfort remained throughout. I realised I hadn’t hydrated properly, and that this was a stress factor - I had quite a vivid fantasy of a marathon-esque water station waiting for me down the path, swigging a mouthful and tossing the cup to one side to be collected by a minion. I concentrated on my breathing, but it was another battling effort to keep it nice and slow. I could feel myself heating up and turning pink, despite the morning chill.
I kept going. That’s the story here really - I kept going. I could have stopped. I considered stopping! But I didn’t.
I managed to speed up half-heartedly for the last 10 seconds and stopped dead on 25 minutes - I felt I couldn’t have run a step further in that moment.
Of course, I had set out too fast (again). My average pace over 3.5k was 7:11. No wonder I felt uncomfortable! That’s my equivalent of a speed run. HR Zones 1, 2 and 3 were barely discernible blurs in the race to threshold and maximum. I visited 184bpm several times - my average was 171bpm. My poor heart. It had barely had a chance to realise we were awake.
On reflection:
a) I don’t like feeling rushed and it has an impact on how I run;
b) the watch is helpful for me. I (clearly) don’t yet have an instinctive feel for my pace. Sometimes the planets align and it’s all working seamlessly together, but more often, I’m not gauging it right.
c) a small glass of water and a sip of coffee cannot compensate for a full night of moisture loss from mouth breathing;
d) I am really looking forward to longer, sunnier, drier days.
Keep… on… running!