Feels Like A Down Week

I’ve been meaning to write more substantial posts but haven’t found the time lately. I’m happy to report that training is going well. My runs on the treadmill seem to be working wonders; I made 66 miles feel like a down week just by running 8:30s most of the way. I’m ready for more.

Monday: 55 minutes on the bike at lunch. I dialed in my heart rate by changing the bike’s resistance, rather than by pedaling faster, so this started to feel like a strength session by the end. I was aiming for an hour but was jelly-legged by 55 minutes.

Tuesday: 9-mile treadmill day. My feet and knees were still sore from my 20-miler on Sunday, but I made it through. I finally brought headphones to the gym, so I was able to pass the time with the Citius Mag Podcast. Core at lunch.

Wednesday: 9-mile treadmill day. Better than Tuesday. Strength at lunch.

Thursday: 12 miles at MLR effort. I was able to hit my usual paces, but felt more tired than usual. This is my third straight week over 60 miles, so that classic marathon training fatigue is setting in.

Friday: 9-mile treadmill day. My left knee has been a little shaky since Sunday, and it was worse today. I eventually loosened up.

Saturday: 9-mile treadmill day. Felt really easy except for my knee, but that got better.

Sunday: 18 miles, with the last 8 at marathon pace (6:23 average). Like Thursday, the faster running felt hard from the beginning, but it didn’t get worse over time. Luckily I had company today so I didn’t have to spend almost an hour thinking about how heavy my legs felt.

My right knee pain came back with about a mile to go, but I was able to run through it and close well. Felt pretty good afterward, but very hungry by dinnertime and very tired by bedtime.

This Week: 66 miles. I was amazed how fresh I felt by the end of the week just by keeping most of my mileage extremely easy (7 mph on the treadmill, or 8:34 pace). That said, marathon training stresses multiple bodily systems, so even though my heart and lungs and brain were raring to go, my muscles and joints were not always so eager. That will come.

Baby: My baby boy had blood drawn today as a follow-up to his one-year checkup, which was hard for all of us. I had to hold him while he cried and struggled as the phlebotomists worked on him. Thankfully, they got what they needed and my son quickly recovered from the stress. I wish I could say the same about myself.

Something I weirdly enjoy about being a parent is taking care of my son when he gets sick. Making sure he gets his medicine, or enough fluids, or an afternoon nap makes me feel like a good dad, and also like I’m in control. I’m sure those two feelings are related.

Having his blood drawn is sort of the opposite situation. There’s nothing I can do to make it feel better, or help him understand what is happening. I’m not in control. My baby is crying and I can’t make him stop.

Being a parent makes you helpless in ways you don’t always appreciate. I saw it in stark relief today. My saving grace was that my boy is brave.

He stopped crying while the needle was still in his arm. He took a deep breath and gritted what few teeth he has and steadied himself. He was babbling at the woman who’d drawn his blood by the time we left. It was such a relief to hear him happy again.

I was so proud.