Last night, DH and I did something I should have done a long time ago. We drove along our main running route and measured the exact distance of the course. Now, I've always had an approximate idea, but I've put off recording the distance due to sheer laziness. Besides, it felt good psychologically to run a few hundred yards more than the exact planned distance on every run...like somehow these few extra yards would make all the difference during the last 1.2 miles of a marathon!
But now that I've completed my first 26.2, I am familiarizing myself with tempo runs, fartleks and lactate threshold; and within the next few weeks, I hope to incorporate a structured form of speed training into my workout. Measuring the distance will go toward helping the cause.
This week, I plan on cutting back my weekly mileage, because of the 5K. I hope to get in three 6 to 8 mile runs (one of which will be a tempo run) before the race on Saturday.
Oh boy! Why do I feel so exhausted on Monday evenings? I know...where there's a will, there's a way; mind over matter and all that...but it doesn't help me when I can barely stop myself from nodding off on the drive home from work. It took all my will-power to not succumb to the temptation of the warm, beckoning couch. But DH was raring to go for a change, so I forced myself to think peppy thoughts. I ran out of steam after 4 miles, but convinced myself that it is better than nothing. I will hopefully be able to compensate, to some extent, tomorrow.
I believe I am getting a hang of the HR watch; the readings were more even during my run today....hovering around 145-160.