Oh thank goodness.

I weeded the garden.

I balanced the checkbook.

I did yoga. FOUR TIMES.

I washed the dog.

I thought about giving up Coke again for awhile, but gave up on that.

I did some trail maintainance - took down some deadfalls, rebuilt a bridge with Co, trimmed back lots of brush, took out some stumps.

I watched TV. I read a book (re-read "The Count of Monte Cristo"). I read another book. (A dog's purpose.)

BUT I DID NOT RUN. (much)  For two interminably long weeks. I'd forgotten that Weekends actually lasted that long! Sure, I needed the time off. At first it didn't seem odd to not run and I happily crossed items off my dusty to do list. The three short easy runs I did the first week were sluggish, but enough to feel like I was still a runner. By week two, my 4 ersatz runs left a dull residue behind that colored the rest of the day. Some runners will talk about getting some snap back in their legs while resting - I wasn't feeling that, and I was starting to get darkly suspicious that this resting gig was going to make me lose the fitness I was hoping to build. I didn't feel like a runner anymore, I felt like a pretender. If disgruntled had a color, I was wearing it.

Tuesday of my first week back running = 2.5 mile Handicap Race. That's what I wanted, something to test how well the resting treated me. I should get a PR. After 2 weeks off, I should be totally ready for a little 2.5 mile race. I even stated my intention to try to PR to the guys, and GL offered to help by pacing me. Perfect. The temp was a little warm, maybe, but otherwise conditions were good. I told GL that the first mile had to be 7:10 or under, and I wanted to finish under 19 minutes. We started, and the pace immediately just felt incredibly hard. After the first mile in 6:57, I was toast.  Then came the hills. I didn't just have one fork in me, I was skewered from stem to stern - I was that done. I slouched across the line in 20:04. I was miserable, light headed, and dejected.

I came up with several explanations. I laughed about not being quite ready for that PR after all with the guys. I binned the excuses. It was what it was. The next few runs I completed with a slight air of resignation, and they were no better in terms of pace or feel. The next week's handicap run was even worse - and the next day I had set up to run up the mountain on Three Gun Springs trail with MB.

It sounds challenging and bad-ass, but I knew it was an out and back, MB would go ahead at his pace, and I could do whatever I could manage (or less) and it'd be fine. Plus, MB tells me that it's really only ~2.5 miles to the top. So no big deal.

About half way up - MB already out of sight ahead of me, I found a little "zone." Well, that's nice, I thought, in a patronizing tone. I can still run. Another half mile along I was still running, and my snark must have taken a wrong turn, because it was gone. Sunset was hastening down the mountain while I ran through forested sections. MB caught me, and I turned around. It was a great run, whether I deserved it or not.  

Thursday speed work went ok, and the Friday 9 miler felt pretty good, though I overheated a bit in the beginning. I was really preoccupied with my Saturday plans. I needed a long run with the ski hill in it to get ready for Jemez, so I planned on going from my house up the ski hill to the 10K trail and Osha spring loop for 20 miles. I wasn't going to have any company, but I was going to do this run. No bailing. That morning, I dawdled around, and finally kicked myself out the door at 11:30 in shorts and a t-shirt. The overcast sky happily meant I wouldn't need to reapply sunscreen. I brought the trimmers with me so I could do a little bush trimming on my route. The run became somewhat laughable as I got snowed on, sleeted on, and rained on while I postholed through scattered snow patches on the 10K trail trying not to think about being cold. I cut the route short as I had taken much too long, and skipped the Osha Spring loop. While short, slow, cold and wet, the run left me optimistic for no particularly good reason.

Sunday I was set to run easy with DP along the bosque - nice and flat. I took in some protein in the form of gnats during the 9 miles. It felt good, though I was a "miguel" to DP's "mark."  Later that evening, the goodness wrapped around me like swaddling. That was a great weekend of running. I did what I wanted to do, and it was good. So simple.

I have a race this weekend, so Monday's recovery run was kept strictly to a slow easy pace and route. And today, Tuesday's handicap race... I had toyed with the notion of running it hard, but decided against it to better save myself for the weekend.Which I told the guys - no PR attempt today.

"Every plan is good until the first shot is fired."

The guys were going easy too. Right out of the gate, I felt really, really good. I quickly decide to make this a fartlek run instead - run the first mile hard, then take a half mile easy, then do the last mile hard. So off I go, leaving the guys to their easy pace. I hear CS comment, "she is running fast today" followed by the sound of his approaching footsteps. Cool, company. We go through the first mile in 7:03, and the effort still feels easy and right. With CS there, looking at me, I push on - should be able to go 19:30, even if I fall apart.
The hills were hard - I lost some ground, and had to pick it back up. I got to the road, ~3/4 of a mile left in 13:18. "Dang" I said to CS, still next to me or just in front pulling me along. That was too slow. It takes me 6 minutes or more to run the last section, which meant a 19:18 today at best.  CS wasn't having any of that, though. And since I didn't have the breath to explain it, he kept pulling. It wasn't feeling so great anymore, now it just felt hard.

"Use the wind at your back"
"doing great"
"just 400 left, come on"
"200, time to sprint!"

I passed the tree stump in 19:07. A PR tie, but to me, it's as good as a PR, it's the confirmation I needed that maybe I just needed a little time to find that running groove again.

What comes after....

the Mt. Taylor Quadrathlon?
-a 50 mile race.

and after a 50 mile race?
- a Marathon.

And after the marathon?
-um, gosh, I don't know.

I think I've forgotten what recovery from races is supposed to look like. I had 2 weeks between racing the Quad and the Old Pueblo 50 miler. And then, 3 weeks after that, I ran the Bataan Memorial Death March Marathon. Though I kind of took 3 days off after each race, if you look at my weekly miles, it doesn't really show.

I had a lot of time to consider this practice of taking 72 hours off and then jumping back into things this weekend. A lot of time. About 7 hours, solo on the trails above Albuquerque, all told.

I found out that the Watermelon Run (20 miles, self supported, loosely organized trail run) was this past weekend. 1 week post-marathon. I told Bones on Thursday that I probably wasn't up for 20. (I was right.) I thought that I'd, you know, just start with the group, and turn around at some point. But maybe I'd feel good and do the whole thing. (*cough* *cough* IDIOT *cough*).

We started out a bit fast, with 4 or 5 others - about a 9 min mile pace, I think. Within 3 miles, I had dropped back, and Bones slowed with me. Another friend caught up and chatted with Bones - perfect. We were at the first water stop, so I told them to go on ahead. I wasn't feeling great - my stomach was cramping. I thought maybe I should turn around here. After the bathroom break and water stop, though, I felt better.

"Let's go to the rock slide."

        -but you know if you get to the rock slide, you might decide to keep going. Is that really the best thing?

"Oh, it's been a WEEK since my marathon. and I didn't even do that very fast. I feel better. Time to GO already."

I caught up to Judy - but she soon turned around. My legs were tired, so I hiked a lot. That's NORMAL. I'm going uphill. (but you've only come 6 miles.. ) ITS UPHILL. I FEEL FINE. 

So I got to the rock slide. The friend that had stayed with Bones passed me going the other way - he too turned around. Not being particularly sheep-like that day, I told him I was continuing on - he was glad I was feeling better. I AM FEELING BETTER - SHUT UP. (i didn't say anything...)

I paused at the edge of the rockslide.

(don't look at your garmin - you know you'll just have to do the whole thing if you see that you've come close to being halfway.... 

-you idiot, you looked.)

Oh come on, I'm at 9 miles. The snow/ice on the rockslide doesn't look so bad - see over there, I can walk on the edge and be on rock instead of snow and ice! Easy. Might as well keep going. Tra la laaaaa-

Mmmmm maybe I will put on my Yak Traks after all. It's slippery!  (you, my friend, are a genius. don't forget that.)

And then one of my Yak traks came off, and I didn't notice right away. Once I noticed, I turned back and looked for it for ~20 minutes, then gave up. And continued on, of course. I was almost through the rock slide. DUH! 'Sides, I wouldn't want to go downhill with only one Yak trak. That'd be suicide. (did I mention you are a genius?)

From the saddle to the tram station was clear, so I ran. Hey. Wow. My legs are really tired. Say, I wonder. I think... yes, I'm pretty sure.. I think maybe I've been missing the recovery thing. I used to take like 2 weeks off after a big event. huh. (silence) Oooo, look, another bathroom.

After the top tram station, the trail dives into the forested eastern side of the Sandias. And the trail is several feet deep in snow. It's tricky snow - the kind that has a crust on it so that 70% of the time, you can walk on top of the snow. But that other 30%, you punch through and sink up to your knee. This gets funny, and then gets tiring, and then, yes, then it gets a wee bit old. And it takes a lot of time to get through.

Ah well, nothing to do but continue on. So. That recovery period. I mean, TWO WEEKS?!? That's a lot of time. Was it just two weeks? I seem to remember some times I'd take longer than that even. (silence.) And what, exactly did I DO for that time off. Surely it can't have been nothing. (silence.) I don't really need that two weeks off. I recover quickly. I DO! 

hmmm. my legs are pretty tired. 

*Slip - slide - punch - teeter - totter - slip - step - slip*

Yeah, I knew I should have turned around. (ya think!!!!) Bones is going to laugh at me that I did the whole 20. I think maybe... Maybe I'll go back and look at some of my running books about post marathon recovery. That hard hill workout I planned for Wednesday, maybe I'll skip that. Yeah. And maybe I should tone down the speedwork on Thursday. Just for this next week....

I thought it a bit odd that noone had caught up to me on the trail - I was going pretty slowly. I even took the downhill Pino trail easy, as everything was tired and sore from the snow crossing. All in all, though, nothing hurt - it was just fatigue. I pulled into the parking lot, and was surprised that there was noone there. hmm. As I walk over to my car, the run leader pops out of her car. She had heard from Bones that I was turning around - but then she saw my car and got worried. I asked about the people I assumed were behind me - turns out they had turned around. So I was the last one off the mountain, and noone had known where I was for the last 2 hours. Ooops. I quickly explained, and she was really just relieved I wasn't lost.

I may not have been physically lost, but my training has been a little off track. Spending 7 hours on a run that probably should have taken me 5 or 6... yup, time to rest!