The long run

Yesterday morning I ran an hour, tired and more-than-mildly hungover, with a group of friends. The time flew by. This morning, rested and hydrated, I ran two hours by myself. Time was not flying.

I always find long runs challenging, but I find them much tougher when I’m on my own. When I can spend the time chatting and laughing with others, I don’t have time to get into my own head. Which is good, because it’s messy up there.

I have developed multiple mind games to get me through longer solo runs. I divide my run into segments: 3 half hour runs in a row rather than a 90-minute one. Or I use my IPod: 4 songs from now, I’ll be halfway there. I compare: this run is only as long as 5 episodes of Jeopardy, 7 walks to work, one drive to Kingston. I bribe myself: if I make it to two hours, I get a Diet Coke. Chocolate cookies. An episode of the Good Wife. A nap. I divide the run into shorter segments: I just have to get from here to the end of the path, from the end of the path to the museum, now it's just from the bridge to home. I focus on my breathing, my technique, the scenery, baby ducks, other runners doing creative things with Spandex.

But brain can only be fooled for so long. And eventually brain says, for the love of God, why would anyone spend their Sunday morning on this Lord-of-the-Rings-style epic journey around the city? Brain says my hamstrings are tight, I’m hungry, I’m tired, I’m hot, I’m getting a sunburn, blisters are forming, thighs are chafing, I have other things to do, and I’m still hungry.

The thing I’m learning about these long runs though, is that they are never all good or all bad. Running shorter distances, I find it’s often all-or-nothing like that. I either feel like I’m flying or shuffling, and I know right away what kind of day it’s going to be. Now, I’ll start off tired and cranky, and then an hour later another gear kicks in, and I’m feeling spectacular. I go from hating the run to being immensely grateful that I’m healthy and fit enough to be out on the path, witnessing the change of seasons, feeling the sun on my face. Then I go back to hating it again.

Today the run started slow and strained, picked up in the middle, and then got tough again. By the end, my stride was strained and my hips were sore … but a few months ago I was feeling that much earlier on. Tangible progress feels good. And now I’ve got my Diet Coke, sleeve of cookies (don’t judge), couch, and Good Wife episode ... and I’m happy as can be.