I ran really poorly today. The slowest I've gone in ages. I did 8 Miles in 1:43:30, at a 12:28 pace. There was tons of walking and more crying than usual. I even had to stop and sit a couple of times because I couldn't catch my breath. That's never happened to me before.
I also ran without enough fluid. I didn't have any sport drinks at home and was too lazy to stop at the store on my way out. So I made do with one bottle of water, and some sips from the city's water fountains which have finally been turned on again. I didn't get enough sleep last night, or food yesterday, and had nothing to eat this morning. I wore the lollipop orthotics which dig deep into my high arches. (I need to break them in! Miserable!) Then I started out too late, so the sun was blazing, and I'd conveniently forgotten sunblock.
I'm sure none of these things in isolation would have thrown me off quite so much; but all of it together had a cumulative effect that nearly sunk me! The funny thing is, when I left the apt to go for the run, I was feeling so strong I thought I might hit a PR.
I've gotten a bit nonchalant, perhaps. My fear has dissipated. And with that, so too has my edge. I might run "on point" but without something to prove, seems I get soft with my drive. I need to work on this in the next two weeks as I taper my mileage down and prep for the Half Marathon. A little fear is a good thing, I see. In the absence of it, I'm just a sloppy mess.
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