Nine weeks to go to. It’s scary to think that it’s so close. The next couple of weeks will see us increase our mileage significantly.
Last week was a ‘rest’ week - apparently. We only did 12 miles - imagine saying only 12 miles! But yes, that is the case.
I feel like I am kind of showing off when I say it but seriously, once upon time that was a long distance. Now it’s short.
However, having said that, the twelve mile run definitely wasn’t a good one. By mile 10, I could barely lift my legs, and I was not very impressed at all with the marathon route - talk about hills!
A warning for those who have not yet run the route - that stretch from Fenit towards the Oyster Tavern has more than its fair share of hills, and on the day that will be miles 16 - 20.
I’m really not looking forward to it. I remember when we started training, Barrow Hill was the big one, and of course it’s still there, but give me a short, high hill any day. And keep your long, unending inclines.
I think I kind of hit a wall in training on Saturday. Apparently this is common, but it’s still very off-putting. And by the time I finished, I didn’t want to run the marathon at all.
In fact, I really felt like giving up. So thanks to Rosaleen for keeping my faith up and getting me past that point.
I did manage to complete the 12 miles though - so I must look at the positive.
I’m hoping this little slump will pass, but either way, in nine weeks time, I’m going to cross that finish line. Although I do warn - it may be on my knees!
My social life has also seriously deteriorated and I think it’ll go way downhill from here on, as I’m up too early on Saturday to go out Friday nights and on Saturday night I’m too wrecked to move: I could easily be in bed at 10pm.
In recent weeks, I have done a lot of my long runs at home in Kenmare, and not at 8am in the morning, but I know I have to train on the actual marathon route, so I’m back into the routine of the early Saturday morning run.
It’s no wonder my friends are concerned about me. I used to be the one out all the time. I’ve even passed up a weekend in Galway because I couldn’t miss training.
I will definitely be looking forward to a pint after I cross that finish line. Actually I probably won’t be able to drink, as I will be on my hands and knees crawling.
I wonder will I even be able to celebrate St Patrick’s Day - that day after the marathon - or will I in bed recuperating?
However, there’s a bright side. I’ll be able to say I ran the first-ever Tralee International Marathon. Well here’s hoping I will anyway.
Fourteen miles is my long run this week. After last week’s ‘wall’ I’m dreading it. But I’m trying to keep reminding myself that every run is different, and that I will make it to 14 miles.
By the way I hardly notice the short runs anymore. It’s just ‘get out and do them’. Between now and the big day, it’s all about the long ones.