I’m running a 10K tomorrow morning. I don’t know that I feel like I can run a 10K, but I don’t know that I can’t either, so. Steve keeps saying we should have a memorial 5K for Floyd to raise money to cure FIP — which, as a side note, apparently has almost no funding or research devoted to it, even though it’s a terrible 100% fatal super crazy mysterious viral mutation, because there’s just not the collective will or interest (which is why if you feel so inclined you should donate to the UC Davis research into FIP) — so I guess I can just consider this my memorial 10K.
Physically, this week has been light on workouts. But, my legs still hurt a lot and feel painfully heavy. That’s what ‘stress is stress’ means — your body can’t always tell if the stress is deliberate training load or emotional wreckage. Yesterday, I dragged myself out for a run with some 2′ efforts at goal 10K pace and, though I hated nearly all of it, I was able to do them.
That means, hopefully, tomorrow will end better than the last time I tried to do a race after an emotional shitshow of a week. Summary: that race ended with me sitting down six miles into the half-marathon and crying. Though I made it six miles, which as far as I have to go tomorrow, so I should be good.