Fail...

Saturday, I went to the basement for this week's long run. I tried, and I failed spectacularly. I was supposed to run 6 miles, translated to 9.6 km. I was really full of myself, boasting about it to the boyfriend. Guess the lesson is learned, then. After 1.5 km my legs loosened up, and I felt like it really was happening. Then I ran another 1.5 km, and I hit a wall. "That's a tad bit early to hit the wall", you might think. It's what I thought. So I pushed through. The meters klicked by sooo slowly, and I had take breaks, and I had to walk. At 5.7 km I realised that it was NOT happening. But I can be stubborn, so I said to myself: 7 km! You can do 7 km! At 6 km my body shut down. I considered laying down on the treadmill, but figured it would be much more comfortable at the gym mats.

Week 1 - Saturday (a.k.a. Long Run Day)

Slowest. Pace. EVER: 6 km in 45 minutes. So embarrassing.

But now I see the point of taking it slow, and listening to my body.

So, I nibbled on my protein bar, and sulked in the shower. And then I spent what felt like the rest of the day trying to get home. Seriously? Thanks to the World Championship in cross-country skiing, the metro and buses and trams were all retarded. I got home just in time for the preparty.

Which led to this:It was a fun night, though. Got to bed at 6 in the morning, which is really late for me. Good thing Sunday and Monday are resting days.