Eight and a half miles of hell this morning. I haven't felt this bad during a run in a long time. My legs felt like piano strings. My stomach both cramped and sloshed, like a full balloon that someone with long fingernails has clutched in a fist. My intent was to get up early and do my long run today, since I will be away for the weekend and unable to follow the normal schedule, but it was not to be. I'll have to try again Monday.
Days like these are normal; not every run can be a great one. Still, it is hard not to let a bad run take root in my mind as worry or fear.
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