I’m not sure what I was expecting – I honestly haven’t spent much time thinking about race day and definitely not the particular route we’d be running on that day, so I wasn’t really mentally prepared for yesterday’s first run along the front half of the Scotiabank Blue Nose 10k race route. Maybe if I set the scene you will all guess how yesterday went for me….
My last run prior to yesterday was hills night on Wednesday. Since then I’ve been swamped with life so did very little physical anything before our long run yesterday morning. Saturday afternoon I did manage to get out to buy my new runners thanks to the help of Luke at Aerobics First (awesome guy!) I was kitted out with new runners and insoles to help correct a minor pre-disposition to pronate (say that 5 times fast). I was forewarned that my first run would be tough as I was still breaking them in – so try to take it easy… Most impactful to yesterday was my inexplicable but very real fear of the bridges. It’s a mix of the fear of heights/falling/falling into water. Every time I drive over that bridge (which is every day to get to work) I drive in the middle lanes and do not EVER admire the view.
So we took off on a beautiful sunny day with my new runners and started the route that we will be tackling in a very short 4 weeks time. The first couple of kms are fairly flat and was a nice jog at a great pace (for me) and I was feeling good. Down North Street towards the bridge my wonky knee made sure I took really short strides but I was still feeling strong and I was having a great little run with Kristen. Then we hit the bridge – I managed to get a few good strides across before my lungs started to labour a bit (the asthma never leaves – I’ve just learned to breathe better – for the most part) I then made the mistake of looking out towards the water…then my breathing became a big problem and my heart started to race a little faster. I recognized that feeling I hated so much and started my walking interval early – and hugged the far left of the walkway as tightly as I could. Just so you know – that bridge is LONG!
I eventually made it to the other side – but my head was not into this run at all. I seriously considered hailing a cab to bring me back over the bridge but I had a goal for the day and I was going to finish my 8km by the time our 72 minutes were up. I grabbed a quick drink, stretched out the hammies a bit (they were killing me all day) and started back over. The run back was no better – worse in fact. I couldn’t keep on my intervals at all. My head, heart and body were not into this run. I walked/ran in weird intervals to get off that bridge as fast as I could. Walked up most of North Street and only really started the long run back to home once I hit flat ground again. My legs felt like lead, every muscle below my belly button screamed at me and I finished my 8km in JUST 72mins and felt miserable about it.
Sometimes it’s just my purely stubborn nature that gets me across the finish line – because yesterday was not fun. I need some serious physical and mental work this week to be ready to do that again next Sunday. Wish me luck.