There are many things I cannot control, and the weather is one of them. The weather turned both of my fun long runs into short cranky ones.
Saturday Iliana and I planned on running all day at Bear Mountain. She picked a loop to repeat, and the plan was, we'd head to the car in between each loop, grab a little more water, food, whatever.
On the drive up, the precipitation grew colder and icier the further north we head. At Bear Mountain, it was snowing when we arrived, and I immediately began complaining. Iliana is somehow good at tuning me out. We headed out for the first of six loops and even though she dragged me on the dreaded Stairway to Heaven, I quickly worked up a sweat as we began discussing important things such as why there are so many wretched men in NYC and upcoming ultramarathons. At the top of Perkin's Drive, the snow was sticking hardcore and as we began running, I grew worried. I insisted we run a little slower than we would've liked, because the asphalt on the road down was slippery. The run felt more like 3 hours than an hour and a half, but at least I was in good company.
My gloves were soaked, so I decided to change them when we got to the car. I changed some layers, ate a bit of an Odwalla bar and some of those Honey Stinger chews, and drank a little water. And then I really didn't want to get out of a car with heated seats, but suddenly, the snow changed from lots of snow coming down to hardcore-you-can't-see-anything-blizzard.
So we decided to go home. Hmmmm let's drive back to the city in this? Probably not a great idea but it was good we left them. The roads grew progressively worse, with overturned cars, stuck cars, electrical fires, downed trees, and horrid drivers. The normally hour-long drive took 3.5 hours.
Sunday was supposed to be the Holiday Marathon - I would run 26.2 miles and Wayne was going to do 22. However, the race was canceled due to fallen trees and ice (pshaw! wimps!), so we decided to skip the ice/slush/snow that would plague sidewalks and head to Prospect Park to do six loops, and then I planned on running home (while Wayne would drive back). Little did I know that my legs had nothing in them and I felt like crap so I could barely push forward. I wanted to cry. Where were my trails? Where was my tough hardcore running weekend? What the hell?
We cranked out seven miles and hopped back in Wayne's car. That was enough, we told ourselves. We didn't feel it. He'd do his long run tomorrow. I would do a couple of slightly longer runs this week, and next week, 50 miles, the week after, 50k, and I'll be in good shape for the marathon.
Instead, we curled up, made a good brunch together, hung out, arranged stuff in our apartment, played with our bundle of fur.
I'll head out for another run in a bit, but really, when you just don't feel it, results don't seem to come. I think my run today was disappointing because I was supposed to be at a fun race - instead was like a hamster, running loops in a park. It was supremely depressing.
Let me out of my cage - send me to the trails - that's where I belong!
A little over a month to Cajun Coyote 100 miler!