This was supposed to be my first real long run of the program. Four, five, six, seven … those were no big deal. Anything less than (or just barely longer than) a 10K is no mental hurdle, much less a physical one.
Eight miles though is starting to get up there. Now you’re talking serious, longer-than-an-hour effort. At least, that’s what I know now. On Sunday morning, 4 November, I was still pretty cocky about it. I sure wasn’t looking forward to the 8-miles and I knew I was going to feel it since it’s the longest run I’ve tried in over a year. But I still didn’t give it the respect it clearly deserved.
The tale of the tape:
Here’s the breakdown:
1) Insufficient rest on Saturday. I spent the day driving (5-hours total) and walking around in the heat sight seeing. I also didn’t get to bed until fairly late in the evening.
2) Poor timing. I ran in the late morning. It was hot and humid. Tropical, haze-in-front-of-the-sun hot. And while I was smart enough to bring a camelbak, it wasn’t enough of a palliative to counteract the heat and direct sunlight.
3) Poor route selection. Instead of doing a true out-and-back route I split route and went out two-miles one way and then back to my start point and (planned) out two in the opposite direction and then back. This gave my brain the option to quit. Which it completely did.