This past Friday, I somehow convinced my group of running buddies (seven of us!) to wake up at the crack of dawn on our day off for a
So on a crisp frigid morning at 7:30, we met up at the Heine Brothers on Longest for a route that would take us through the Highlands, downtown and over to Indiana and back. This would be fun, I thought – running to another state.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I can’t say what exactly wasn’t clicking, but this was, by far, my worst run. I could probably chalk it up to a number of factors. It was way colder than it’s been recently, and I didn’t dress appropriately. Work was so consuming this week that I missed both of my short runs. I never found a good pace, and spent most of the time just trying to find a groove. I’d spent all week fighting allergies, and I ended up having to breathe through my mouth for most of the run. Whatever the reason, I had a terrible run. So terrible that when my shoe came untied on the bridge, I started yelling how much this whole run sucked.
And then my friend, Eileen, introduced me to the word “bonking.” A common occurrence amongst veteran runners, bonking is just having a bad run for no particular reason. And, as Eileen put it, “A bad run is still good training.”
I thought about not writing about how bad it was and just posting some pics, but my friends convinced me that somewhere out there is someone who needs to know that not every run is going to go smooth. So whoever you are, just keep running. You’ll get over it, and the next run will be better.
And there’s always post-run pancakes.