Sometimes in life, things don’t go to plan.
The plan was to host a 35-mile long run on Sunday, with fellow Comrades coming to Austin from Dallas, Houston, and other Hill Country cities for a group effort. As a bonus, I had four friends, my husband, and two sons who were going to each join in for one 5-mile loop, thus ensuring I’d have good company and motivating conversation for my entire long run. I’d also planned on it being a warm but delightful day, with just enough breeze to keep the air from being too humid.
According to the plan, it was going to be a social, enjoyable run.I was really looking forward to it! Long run training can be hard to do alone.
The reality, however, was quite different.
This post contains affiliate links. Purchasing via these links gives me a small commission at no cost to you. Please see my privacy policy for more information.
Weather Woes and Long Run Training
By Friday morning, I was getting texts and messages from the folks who were planning on coming to run, as the weather forecast for Sunday morning was thunderstorms. I chose to take the seasoned-Texan approach….I dismissed the forecast, knowing that it’s never as bad as it seems.
By Friday evening, the forecast had deteriorated further. Now it wasn’t just thunderstorms in the forecast but flooding was predicted, too. I wasn’t interested in a) being struck by lightning, b) getting splashed with dirty road water by every car that passed or b) running through small ponds for six-plus hours.
Furthermore, our course included several steep downhills. While I’ve done a lot of downhill training, I was starting to get a little worried about running on the wet pavement on post-marathon mileage legs.
By Friday night, I’d recontacted everyone who was planning on coming, and they all understood that it didn’t look like Sunday morning was going to work. Cancelling the long run training party was a bummer.
But I knew that trying to squeeze in my long run before storms rolled in Saturday evening was a good idea
Unfortunately, I had an obligation Saturday morning. While it was a fun event, I was up at 4.15am. I then drove six fifth-graders (none of them my own) to a competition about 45 minutes away. I spent the time the kids were competing drinking water, but that was about the only thing I did right all day. We returned to Austin about noon, and as I was driving the kids to their drop-off location (and scarfing down a PB&J), I saw my dad in his running clothes on my driveway.
He’d already started his long run training, lucky dog!
I zipped home, changed clothes, and found out my dad was already 10 miles into his run. I texted my friend, B, who said she’d like to meet me for a loop. I was still planning on getting in 35 miles. I thought 55-minute loops (11 minutes/mile) would be good for getting in an easy-effort long run.
Setting out for my Long Run
It took only about 90 seconds to realize that the humidity would have other plans. I know it’s never good to start off a run feeling sleepy, but it’s really a bad idea to do so on a day when the humidity is at 90+%. Temps were in the mid-70s. Ugh!
My dad had run his first two loops faster than planned (by about a minute per mile), and he could tell that it was a stupid mistake, especially with the humidity. I told him that I had no need to stick to a particular pace, and that I was happy enough to go very slowly for my first loop. We did our regular walk/run as planned, finishing the first loop in 56 minutes. Fine for me, but still too fast for my dad.
We were both totally soaked with sweat. My dad wanted to stop in and change clothes, socks, and shoes. I set off for loop two. I was drinking Tailwind every few minutes, but I could still feel I was sweating like crazy. Loop two finished in 55 minutes.
10 Miles Down – Lots More to Go
I set out for loop three with a bottle of water, wanting a change from the light lemon energy drink. As I was approaching a section of rough concrete on the sidewalk, I had one of those moments every runner hates:
I could feel myself tuck and then….Bam…..I was on the pavement.
I rolled over once, and then brought myself up to a seated position. I quickly surveyed the damage– skinned knuckles, a scraped wrist, and some decent road rash on my left shoulder, forearm, and thigh. But I knew immediately I wasn’t really hurt– thank God– but it did take the wind out of me.
And for someone who was already running on low energy, falling was not what I needed.
I dusted myself off and got running again. I made it through the fourth mile and was just starting the easy downhill of the last mile of the loop when I saw my friend B pulled over on the side of the road. I stopped my watch, ran over to her, and found out she had a cold. BOOOOO!!! Even so, it was nice to have a little on-course attagirl after a tough loop. Loop three was 58 minutes, including “stoppage time” from my tumble and recovery.
When I got back home (15 miles done) I realized I drank through my entire 24 ounce water bottle on one loop. For someone who doesn’t normally drink very much while running, I was surprised I was so thirsty. Then I remembered how slow and miserable I felt.
I grabbed a new bottle of Tailwind, ate a mini Snickers and a handful of potato chips, and then I set out for loop four. I was looking forward to hitting the halfway mark of my run during this loop.
Rain, Rain Go Away! I’m Trying to Do My Long Run Training Today!
What I got instead was a massive downpour for about five minutes. It was a lovely respite from the humidity, but it played with my head a bit. Was it going to thunder and lightning? What would I do if I had to scrap my run at this point? I’d been researching parking garages, but would I really will myself to get into my car and drive somewhere else to keep running– inside a parking garage– just to finish my run? Or would I bag it and figure out how to do a 50-55K run next weekend? Needless to say, all of this mental energy wasn’t very productive. I finished loop four soaking wet in 60 minutes flat.
When I got back to the house, I saw my dad who had started running smaller loops to stay closer to the house. He was experiencing some cramping, so he wanted to be close to home. I was glad he’d made this decision, as the rain made the steep downhills (8-9% grade) on the longer loop rather treacherous. Given my earlier experience, I didn’t want him to fall, too! We chatted a bit about the deteriorating weather conditions, and I mentioned I was committed to getting in 50K. I would make a decision later about whether to go the full planned 35 miles. I downed another Snickers and a few more chips, grabbed another new bottle of Tailwind, and headed back out.
I don’t remember much about loop five other than it rained on and off during that loop. Just when I thought that was awful enough, the sun started trying to peek out. I certainly did NOT need it to be sunny and steamy. I finished loop five in 60 minutes. I felt fine. Not great, not bad, just blah.
The Last Loop of the Long Run
By the time I set out for loop six, I was convinced it would be my last full loop. I just wasn’t mentally in to the run. I was glad to go through the marathon mark (26.2 miles) and feel fine physically. The skies then opened up and there was a heavy downpour. When I had to run through sizable puddles and run with my feet at an angle down the big 3/4 mile downhill section, I was DONE. Knowing this was my last full loop was, apparently, a powerful motivator. I finished in 55 minutes.
With 30 miles done, I threw my water bottle onto my driveway and headed out for a one-mile loop. I carefully navigated the clunky sidewalk one more time, walked up the last hill, and ran down to my street for the finish. When I got back to my driveway, I tacked on another 90 seconds of running to get to my full 50K.
My final running time was 5:56. Good enough for a training run. I just wish I’d felt more energetic doing it.
What Did I Learn from a Lousy Long Run?
Keeping hydrated was impossible. I normally have to use the toilet every 90 minutes to two hours during a long run. Today? I only had one potty stop in the entire almost six hours. Considering I drank about twice as much as I would normally, I knew I wasn’t optimally hydrated.
Still, I never had any muscle fatigue. I just never had any energy, start to finish. My legs felt fine (and still do in recovery), and the only physical discomfort I had while running was that my ankles felt tight. I think it was from the way I had to stride and footstrike going down the hills once the road was wet.
I have no “after” pics, because as soon as I got in the house after my 50K, I saw I had a text from my oldest kid who needed to be picked up from a school event. I stripped off my soaking clothes, pulled on a sundress, and drove all sweaty and stinky to fetch my kid.
And that’s just how it goes some days.
Want to know what happened after this long run training disaster?
