Whoaaaa, we’re halfway there!
And yes, you HAVE to sing this as if you’re in a Bon Jovi cover band. There is no other option!
Tuesday’s run marked my longest route since 2019, pre-baby — and hitting a distance that’s half the half marathon length I’m training for in Pittsburgh this May: 6.51 miles (ok as the daughter of a math teacher I know that technically, EXACTLY halfway to 13.1 is 6.505, but given that my Apple Watch only goes to two decimals, we’ll call it halfway).
It’s also exciting because it’s the first time I’ve crossed the 10k mark, and I’m about 6 weeks from my first ever international race with the San Silverstre Vallecana 10k in Madrid.
After coming back from a month of sickness, I have been trying my best NOT to over-push myself and risk bouncing back into ick-y-ness of cough monster. That’s hard for my Type-A self: I said I needed to be at 7 miles by the end of November, so I felt almost guilty for still sticking to walk-runs capped around 3 or 4 miles last week. But with a whole week of feeling good, I decided to pick up to a longer one when I saw the gorgeous weather forecast— crisp and sunny— and the 2 hour free block in my afternoon.
As I’ve mentioned before, when I’m not running or writing about running, I’m teaching writing at a community college. That means mostly freshman composition, and in my case in recent semesters, all multilingual students who are often coming to me with an array of negative past experiences with writing in English. Starting projects can mean they are near paralyzed with fear or anxiety about not measuring up, and now is when it can get the worst, since November is usually when we’re digging into big research projects. When one of my sections — usually very conscientious students — had more than half the students not turn in a part of the project on time, at first, I was just cranky and annoyed.
But after talking more with them, it reminded me of the weight of all those expectations… so we threw out the lesson, taking class time to work, while I walked around, encouraging each that they did not need to worry about the “end” product: forget word count. Pause on worrying about grammar. Please don’t even think about your grade. Just let go of expectations and let it flow.
Of course the very thing I am so terrible at doing — in writing and running (and life in general). Indeed, when I started planning my run, the first thing I started doing was negative self-talk about how slow I’d be. But because Tuesday was so crisp and cool, my running wardrobe saved me
How so? Well, unless it’s full on winter cold, I’m not a fan of gloves when running….I like having my fingers free to adjust a piece of clothing or hair or snap a pretty picture. So I love running shirts that go partway over my hands with a thumb slit, like this Under Armor fave.
Saved from pace-monitoring by the thumb slit
And that means toasty wrists… but a covered Apple Watch. So, if I wanted to stay comfy, I quite literally could not constantly check pace.
This forced letting go of expectations almost immediately changed the run — not even five minutes in, I decided to turn from my plan of the super flat trail to the decidedly more hilly route which would bring me to the Mt. Vernon Trail along the Potomac. Back in 2019, when Mr. Every-Body-Run and I were still living in an apartment about a mile from its start, this DMV gem was an almost daily route. But when we bought our home about a mile and change up the road, it became harder to reach. One of the joys of half marathon training longer runs means that it’s back on my list.
And as usual, it didn’t disappoint: there’s little as lively as this waterside route in fall.
Love me a water view -- always makes the miles go faster
And it’s always cool to feel like a badass when you see signs saying you’re approaching a state line on your run.
I mean, yeah, it's less than 5K to change from Virginia, but still...crossing state lines is cool.
And few that gives as iconic city views.
As I started the final turns that would bring me home, I approached what had made me want to skip this route: the super steep hill to the Netherlands Carillon by the Iwo Jima memorial. (Fun fact, this is just AFTER the 26 mile marker for the marine corps marathon— nothing like a giant uphill on those legs!) “I’m just going to walk it” I thought.
Again: expectations drag.
But then I heard my watch buzz letting me know I’d passed mile 6. I had no idea how fast, just that I was getting closer. “Just go,” I told myself....“see how far you get”
And I made it ALMOST to the top before my legs pulled me to a walk break. A small milestone, but I felt super proud.
After crossing the park, I finally rolled up the sleeve so I could see when I hit my 6.51… and, not only was i closer than I thought, my pace was much faster AND I felt awesome. Much better, indeed, than the day before when I’d done a quick 20 minute one trying to push myself to meet this same 10-minute mile (and failing while also feeling like yuck!)
That's a distance and a pace I have not seen in SOME time!
I know I’ve written before about how much I struggle with letting go of expectations when running. And I know I’ll keep struggling with that.
But right now, I’m going to groove on these good vibes, and hope that sharing them helps others groove on them too.
WHOA. We're halfway there! Pittsburgh or bust, yinz guys!
