3 Doubles
3 Runs with Wake Girls
11 Mile Long Run
3 Mile Tempo Fail
So this week started off with a terrible tempo, which seems to be the theme for me the past couple of weeks. I had a goal of running 5 miles, and I only ran 3 and felt awful. My left hamstring was still preventing me from getting the full range of motion and I just felt like it wasn't worth it to push it. It was also exceptionally humid, which didn't help my breathing. I've also come to the self-diagnosis of having low ferritin because I get this feeling like once a year and I hate running, feel terrible, am tired all the time and take forever to recover and absolute crap workouts. In a nutshell, that's how I feel. I know that with a couple of week's time, I'll get over it and feel more confident again, but such is the ebb and flow for running for me right now. Of course, since the week started off on a mediocre note from the running perspective, I was more than ecstatic for my bachelorette weekend in California, where I would be reunited with Michelle, Selina, Liz and Marley--four of my former teammates at Wake. Also, my sister, Athena and Anna would be making the trip from California. By the time I got off the plane in San Fran, the crisp, cold, fresh air greeted me with a great welcome and I immediately knew running would be better here.
Debauchery occurred on Thursday night at the bars in downtown San Fran, and then after that, a much more low key and relaxing trip commenced. We made family dinner every night, floated the river in our backyard with deflated tubes, hiked in the redwoods, winery-hopped in Sonoma County and relaxed in a hot tub. I felt like I was back in college because every morning the five of us trekked outside in the 50-degree weather to run together...even if it was only for 45-60 minute runs, they were a blast. On Sunday, we made our way to Sonoma Coast State Park on the beach, in hopes of running along a trail on the cliff of the ocean. The first six minutes of the run were up and down a cliff, and we were all huffing and puffing, secretly hoping that this wasn't going to be the entirety of the run. Fortunately, the terrain leveled off and we were left in the dense fog that was blocking our view of the expanse of the ocean only 500 feet from us.
By the time Monday came around, I didn't want to leave our blissful river cabin in Guerneville, California, but I knew that the Democratic National Convention was calling my name back to Charlotte to witness some of the mayhem going on back here.
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