I set out to run the 5/3 Riverbank Run 25K on Saturday morning. We've done the event in the past and I've enjoyed myself and things went great for the first 3 months of training. Then in the last week, I pulled my quad at tennis, fought off an awful headcold and was unable to run the entire week before the event due to the injured quadricep.
I felt good on Saturday morning, so I decided to go for it.
Bad decision, me.
It was painful. Well, the first 8 miles or so were super duper but the last 3 were the most pain I've ever experienced during an athletic endeavor.
So, naturally, I had the following conversation with Andy on the drive home from the race.
"I don't think I've ever had good luck for a long distance race. I should just not do them any more. I don't even really like running more than 10 miles. I think I'm just going to do 10K's and 5K's from now on."
Literally, 20 seconds of silence passed.
"I think I'm going to see if there's a half marathon or something I can run in the next couple of weeks so all of that training doesn't go to waste."
One half of me (the legs half probably) hates distance running. The other half of me loves it.
3 days after the event, I'm still walking like an 80 year-old and it takes me about 3 minutes of grimacing to get from a seated position to a standing position.
And this morning I signed up for a half-marathon.
Running doesn't make sense.