This morning I learned a valuable lesson:

13 miles, even during a cut back week, is still a serious run. And should be taken seriously.

Last week was an 18-miler. And this week was a cut-back week. (5, 8, 5, 13.) Mentally, I was thinking “it’s just 13.”

Newsflash: it’s never “just” 13. That is still a respectable distance. Hello, for awhile, that was my longest distance … I would train specifically for that distance! I will still train specifically for that distance.

Anyway, so I wasn’t doing my usual pre-long run preparation. I wasn’t mentally preparing myself for this weekend’s run. I wasn’t making sure to drink more water on Friday. I certainly didn’t put ANY thought into my pre-long run dinner. Other than “This is my birthday dinner! Let’s celebrate!”

Fried cheese curds, a lobster roll (with cole slaw and fries), and a flight of stouts and brown ales does not a good pre-long run dinner make.

(That is also a terribly constructed sentence.)

Flossmoor Station Restaurant & Brewery
This was not taken last night, but every post needs a picture.

I mostly blame the lobster roll. But I’m sure the beer did nothing to help with hydration. But, on the upside, it was a delicious dinner. And I discovered I really like 3 Floyds‘ Robert the Bruce. (In case you care, many of 3 Floyds’ beers are hoppier than I personally prefer [but my brothers and sis-in-law love them], so I was happy to discover another beer of theirs that I like. I also enjoy Gumballhead and Pride & Joy, two of their other two non-pale ales.)

So, obviously, this morning’s long run wasn’t the best of this training cycle. It wasn’t my worst long run ever (hopefully I never top my worst) nor was it quite my worst 13 miles (again, I hope to never top that worst), but it certainly felt like amateur hour for me out there. Actually, I didn’t even do 13. The pace group I run with does the “beginner” mileage, which was 12 this week. Good enough for them = good enough for me. And my stomach.

I think my cat has sympathy pains, because when I got home I discovered that she threw up on the carpet. Aww, so sweet, right?

 

In totally unrelated news, I cannot get this song out of my head (in a good way).

Also, I’m currently addicted to SongPop. If you play, find me, I’m “magpop.”