Disclaimer: My use of the word “slow” is relative. My pace is my pace. I’m using slow because it’s relatively slow compared to a former Lady J. I don’t care what y’all are doing.
I don’t know if you all know this, but marathon training involves quite a bit of running. Apparently, I need to run more for a race that only involves running. Who. Knew. I looked at my training plan and saw tempo run. “Hey Coachie! How fast do I need to go for this?” She looked at my 2:47 half-marathon time from Augusta and said that my pace for my tempo runs should be faster than this. For me, that means somewhere between 11:40 and 12 min miles.
You see, my tempo runs were once faster than this. My half-marathon time from 2 and a half months ago was 2:27.
Ermahgerd I’m getting worse! I remember when I used to run faster than I do now; what’s happening to my running?! You know, the half-marathon that wasn’t preceded by 1.2 miles in the water and 56 miles with Red Rocket. On my feet that still are coping with plantar fasciitis.
“Come on, Lady J!” you exclaim, a bit perturbed. This isn’t the drama to which we are accustomed. It is MUCH too pragmatic of you not to be upset for running at a slower pace than you once did.” No worries, dear reader. I, too, am uncomfortable not being uncomfortable. But what else can I do? I am where I am. Just as with everything else, barring some unforeseen injury, I will grow stronger if I keep going. Maybe not even faster, although that is likely. But definitely stronger.