When did 12 miles become “only 12 miles”? I don’t know exactly, but 12 miles was my plan for today.
I slept in pretty late, feeling the need for extra rest, and finally got out the door around 8:30. The park was packed. Today is the 5th Avenue Mile, so there were tons of people around. I stopped for a bit to watch some of the action, and it looks like a fun one. I’ll have to put it on the bucket list.
Anyway, once I actually started running, I remembered that 12 miles is really far. I guess I had forgotten. It certainly did not feel like “only 12.”
It was hard. And it was humid. Really, really humid. I realize that I often complain about the humidity, but I really hate it so I am going to continue complaining. Probably forever, so you all can get used to it.
I swear everything was harder about this run. I was slower, the air was thicker, my legs weighed more. Also, my water bottle actually felt heavy. It never feels heavy. I carried the same thing last week for 16 miles and hardly noticed it, but this week I swear it was carrying some extra weights or something:
I was also trying to save up some energy at the beginning of this run and work on the whole negative splitting thing. I sorta did that. A little bit. Naturally, I started too fast, but once I realized it I slowed down. After a couple slower miles I started to pick it up again:
But for now, oh well. I got the run finished. I am surprised at how hard it was, especially since I have had really solid runs that were much longer than this, and because I have run a half marathon in only a few minutes longer than this.
That’s just how it goes sometimes, though. And I know that. The good runs are only good because you have to get through the hard ones also. At least that’s what I tell myself.