I wimped out on my long run yesterday.
It had been a traumatic day – my dog, Maple, who lives with my ex in Birmingham is old and her back legs have become increasingly wobbly since Christmas – I was up in February and she’s even worse since then. We (my ex and I) had a chat about options etc and I held it together until on the train when, with the help of Will Young’s greatest hits, I had a good old cry. Then another when my bf texted to ask how I was, then another when I got home.
My excuse for not doing a long run – dehydration…..
So, I came up with option E….. accept that I wasn’t going to do my wrong run – totally wrong frame of mind, I know from experience I wouldn’t have got far and would have been cross with myself and would be a crying mess around the streets of London.
So, I got changed and decided I was going to go for a 3 mile run – a nice distance that could be run while it was still light and my bf was happy to keep me company on.
And it was a really nice run – I’m clearly starting to get stressed about the marathon and not being able to do it as well as I want to be able to….. I’m fully aware that by not doing my long run I’m not helping myself, but on reflection I’m happy with my decision – better to have done 3 good miles than probably 5 miserable ones before I came home and cried some more