Negative Splits

Yesterday's run was one that I'd love to bottle up and save forever.  The sky threatened rain as I headed out, but no rain fell until hours after my run, and the cloud cover made for a cooler run.  My legs felt powerful, my core was strong, my heart and lungs clicked along without any protest.  I ran several of the hills in my neighborhood, which have sometimes loomed large in the past.  Yesterday, they were easy as pie.  It was a run where I felt like I could go forever feeling free, energized, and strong.

When I set out, I had no firm plans.  I wanted to run 5 or 6 miles, and I hoped to achieve negative splits.  I felt good about my negative split goal through mile 4.  When I realized I had run that one in 9:24, however, I wasn't sure that I could continue to speed up for 2 more miles.  I thought I'd be lucky to just hang on to that pace.  Mile 5 felt surprisingly easy (another 9:24), and I glanced at my watch as I began mile 6.  It read 8:03AM, or 3 minutes past the hour I'd promised my husband I'd be home.  Not only did I need to beat a 9:24 mile to continue my negative splits, but I also had to book it in order to relieve my husband of kid duties.  I cranked it up, finishing out the run with an 8:41 mile.

A work of art that only a runner would appreciate: perfect negative splits :)

Elated doesn't even begin to describe how I felt at the end of this run.  This was my longest run since I admitted that I was injured in early April.  Running 6 miles, feeling strong and healthy throughout, left me with an incredible sense of accomplishment.  As I stood in my kitchen, stretching my quads as my kids filled me in on their morning, I felt invincible and ready to conquer the world.  It's a feeling I need to commit to memory so I can draw on it in the future when running - or life - feels like too much to handle.  The struggles will always come, but if I can remember this incredible feeling of triumph, I will survive the low points and return to victory.

A Social Run

Though I've occasionally run with my husband, I am almost exclusively a solo runner.  I mostly run solo out of necessity: I have few real-life running friends and my usual early morning runs don't appeal to a broad audience.  This week, however, my runner cousin is visiting from DC, and a run seemed like the perfect opportunity for us to reconnect.

She's training for a late-fall marathon, and I'm just easing back into running after my hellish month of July, but we were surprisingly able to settle into a comfortable pace for a 3 mile run last night.  We chatted the entire way, covering topics from alternative transportation options in DC to preschool temper tantrums.  We also had those conversations that only appeal to runners, like emergency bathroom stops and our favorite places to run in our hometowns.  We are separated in age by 5 years, which as kids was a sizable gap, but it was wonderful to connect as adults and runners, bonding over shared sweat and a few killer hills.

I've been slowly climbing out of the funk brought on by my frustrating summer.  I've had some reasonably good runs this month but none that brought me anywhere near the euphoria of past runs.  Last night, however, I felt great physically and mentally.  It turns out that a companion was just what I needed to find my runner's high again.

I didn't know the truth of this until this week.