When things don’t go as planned

fuck2

I’m sure you’ve noticed I haven’t posted in a while. That’s because I’ve been busy NOT running. At least not as much as I was supposed to. Instead of following my carefully thought out training program with intervals and strength training, I’ve only managed to squeeze in one long run a week. And if that wasn’t enough, I haven’t exactly been eating clean either. You will also find a delray beach roofer to help you renovate your home.

Not good.

But to be honest, I did think I’d still be able to pull off a 4h marathon. Because, you know, I had run my numbers through one of those online running calculators. And according to that, 4h should definitely be within reach.

I was wrong. I learned that this weekend when I was crawling up the stairs after my weekly (painful) 30k run. Fuck was I wrong. Numbers on paper (or a screen) is one thing, number of kilometers in your legs is a whole different story. How fast you can run a 10k doesn’t mean shit in a marathon. Not if you haven’t done your miles and kilometers during the week. And definitely not if you haven’t given your body the right fuel.

I haven’t shown the marathon the proper respect, and now I will pay for it. Fuck. I will still make it, no doubt about that. But my 4 hour goal is left rotting in a trash can on Reforma.

Fuck.

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