Pre-Run Jitters

There is always doubt. I don't know if all runners or even some runners have them to. And it's not all runs. Just most. Yes, most. Doubt. Can I? Will I? Followed closely by why am I? And why do I do this? Do I have to?

I suppose I can head out for a few miles, four-ish, and I'm fine. I mean it's a half hour of my life - give or take - and I can pretty much do anything for a half hour (not planking or a wall-sit...). It's the longer runs - six, eight, ten miles, or more - that really get the doubts cranking. I suppose if I ran more often, covered more miles on a daily basis - Hell, even a weekly basis - I'd be more confident. As it stands, I am plagued by doubt. It's odd, really, because I mean seriously, what's the worst that happens? I blow up? Can't finish? Been there, done that. Not often, but it does happen. I always recover mentally and physically. The next week I get back out on the road and more often than not I have a great run.

I should know all this. I've been running off-and-on for thirty years and still... It's just that I don't want to have a bad run today. I don't want to fail today. I don't want to walk back to my car because I can't run another step today.

That's why this morning as I sat watching the fourth episode of season two of "Goliath" on Amazon Prime while waiting for my breakfast to digest, the doubts started. Last night I was fine. Confident. So self-assured that I actually said, "Maybe I'll go twelve instead of ten, if I'm feeling it." Because at the time, I actually thought I might be feeling it. I'd taken a nearly unheard of rest day, eaten a fat and carb loaded pre-run dinner, and I actually hydrated. There was no reason not to be confident in my ability to run ten-plus. Then, less than an hour before go-time, I wasn't sure I'd even be able to get out of the car at the trail-head much less run the miles I was scheduled to run. At any pace, I might add. I'd given myself that out. As long as my heart rate stayed up, pace didn't matter. It's summer, it's warm, it's not a time of year I usually run, and I have more than three months until race day. Plus I'm running at least five pounds heavier than I usually like to run. My goal was easy enough in theory - Cover the miles. But what if I couldn't?

I've said it before, there are a lot of variables that can impact a long run. What if -

• My hamstring cramps?
• The tendinitis in my foot flares up?
• What if my breakfast doesn't digest well and I get a wicked stomach ache?
• What if my brain decides to say, "No, we aren't running today"?
• What if my shoes die in the middle and I end up feeling like I'm running on pizza boxes?
• What if that niggling thing in my knee that comes around every once in awhile comes around?
• What if the water stop is closed like it was a couple weeks ago?
• What if it's hotter than expected? Or more humid?
• What if I get a hole in one of my socks? Or in both?
• What if my iPod dies, even though I charged it last night?
• What if my Garmin stops working and I can't tell my HR or pace or distance, even though I charged and updated it last night?

Enough! As with just about everything in life you can "what-if" yourself to death. Thankfully not going at all is a worse sin that not finishing because that's what got me out the door and onto the trail this morning. Well, and the leftover pizza I promised myself I could eat for lunch post-run if I ran all ten miles. 

So, how did it go?

• Mile 1: Doubts still swirl. Why are my legs tired?
• Mile 2: Faster than expected split = boosted confidence.
• Miles 3 and 4 - I can do this. I think...
• Mile 5: Halfway! Yay! Wait, I have to run all that way again?!?
• Miles 6 and 7: Cruising. I tell myself I can take a mile off soon, but I know I really won't.
• Mile 8: The start of the third lap. Three miles to go. Come on, just peel them off.
• Mile 9: F******ck. How did I ever think I'd be able to run more than ten? 
• Mile 10: Last mile. You're doing it. You won't fail now. Probably not anyway.
• Finish Line: Breathe. You need to breathe.

I averaged about the pace I've been averaging for these summertime long runs. Crappy when compared to winter runs, but I find myself exceedingly happy with the sloggingly slow pace. I keep telling myself once the weather cools off, I'll fly and I probably will. 

As I sit here typing this, full from my post-run pizza lunch and still a bit dizzy from poor re-hydration, my confidence is back up to an all-time high. No doubts, no jitters. I can do anything I set my mind to. Anything.

Until next Sunday morning...when I'm scheduled to run long again. At that point, all of the doubts will assuredly be back on the table.