Allergic to speed

On Saturday I did like three weekends worth of activities in one day, and then predictably I could barely even move on Sunday and getting out of bed Monday was a joke. I did that thing where I just kept "postponing" my run by hitting snooze 8 times and then resetting the alarm entirely coming up with various ways to "save time" (Ok, now I won't wash my hair. Ok, now I won't make lunch.)  until I finally admitted to myself it wasn't happening. So basically I wasted an hour in bed half awake/half asleep, woke up feeling completely unrested, and now I would still have the missed run hanging over my head all day. The week was off to great start.

Part of the reason I was putting off the run like crazy was because the run itself was freaking crazy. 10k at 10k race pace. According to McMillan, that would be a 7:53 pace. Terrifying.

I almost chickened out and used the dreaded treadmill, just because then I wouldn't have to deal with hills and that whole pesky "having to keep the pace myself out of sheer willpower" thing. My target race isn't actually on a treadmill though, so I put on my big girl pants and forced myself out the door after work. Everyone knows that cool shoes and clothes help you run faster, so I busted out my new Pearl Izumi capris, Brooks PureFlows, and Mockingjay noodle hugger.

I swear the shoes actually helped

My plan was to just run as fast as I could, and if I could keep it under 8:30 I'd be happy. I may have frightened any other pedestrians with my pathetic gasping for air, but I surprised myself with my splits.

To put it in perspective, my 10K PR is only 51:31 (granted that was on a horribly hot, humid day, but still). If only training runs could count as PRs, then life really would be perfect.

My joy at finishing at an even faster pace than I ever could have imagined was short lived, because I immediately started feeling like I wanted to puke and/or die. Eric called and asked if I wanted him to bring me a blizzard, and I didn't even say no, I said "GOD NO". That's when I knew things were serious. I spent the rest of the night laying on the couch, moaning, texting people to complain, sipping ginger tea, and of course, watching the Biggest Loser. It was still totally worth it, and as an added bonus, I felt I could truly identify with the contestants.

This morning I did a super easy 6 mile recovery run in the rain at a 10:05 pace, and luckily felt back to normal. Let's all cross our fingers that I survive this training cycle.

I also made an amazing recipe for dinner that: 1. had chicken and 2. is worth sharing. (I still make Eric do any cooking for the chicken.)

Chicken Florentine Artichoke Bake:

What's the best thing you've cooked lately?

Anyone else allergic to speed like me?