That’s what the current stage of marathon training feels like: football playoffs.
After you’ve weathered football camp, double sessions, the blazing southern heat of August and September, and 10 regular season games, the playoffs arrive. It’s a time of anticipation and growing excitement…and in between that, your body more and more feels like it’s falling apart.
You’ve been training your arse off for over three months at this point (longer, including off-season workouts), and all the bangs and bruises accumulated over the regular season are piling up. Plus the weather’s getting colder, which slows the healing process noticeably. You’re flying around faster and harder on the field as the energy surrounding each successive playoff game becomes positively electric (nyuk), but between games and practice sessions–off the field–you feel increasingly beat up. When the adrenaline isn’t surging in your veins, you feel as though a train got the better of you.
Marathon training, I’m discovering, is very similar.
We, too, started in July. The Lady and I weathered the heat of August (sometimes my shoes would literally be squishing after long runs), and hammered through September and the monster month of October. Now we’re in the playoffs, with our ultimate goal inching closer every single day. The excitement and anticipation are brewing, and the temptation to bolt through easy runs is increasingly difficult to resist.
But in between runs–when I’m waking up in the mornings, or moving around at work, or peeling myself off the couch–my body is rebelling. Joints are increasingly achey, muscles resist stretching, and trouble spots are cropping up faster than I can smooth them out.
I feel beat up. True that I haven’t been physically smashing any heads, although after twisting my ankle and missing a few training runs I’m wont to argue that this training session has been pretty physical. But the general feeling is nonetheless similar.
The Philly Marathon is Sunday, November 18 at 7am. That’s our ultimate goal.
I now leave you with my favorite lolcat of late:
And then just as the playoffs started, the infield fly gets called and your entire world is shattered.
On one hand, I don’t know how to analogize that to marathon training or football. The latter could be something like an offensive pass interference call, I suppose.
On the other hand, I lol’d. In a sad, depressed way.
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