Monday Wrap Up: Post-Race Doldrums

The marathon is a funny thing.  You train and you train and then you get to a point where, even when you have a big, important goal, you feel like “eff I am so over this, let’s just do it and I don’t even care what happens.”  And then the race comes and HOLY SHIT do you care what happens, and for like a week you feel like a total bad ass (more or less so, depending on what happens), and then after that you feel weird and empty and kind of sad and definitely very fat and lazy.  At least that’s how it goes for me.

Those sentiments were delayed a bit this time around since I was traveling for a while after the race, still very much go-go-go, but when I finally landed back on solid, East Coast ground last week, they hit hard.  “My God, I ran only 8 miles last week!” I thought.  “I’ll be starting from scratch for the fall season because I am so fat and lazy!”

This, I want to acknowledge, is INSANE thinking.  I had taken a grand total of about 4 days off, during which I didn’t run and instead ate fish tacos and drank Bud Lights and the most exercise I got was running from my towel into the Pacific Ocean to pee.  And that’s okay, and most certainly will not result in starting from scratch in the fall season.  But when you’re coming off 16 weeks during which you were running 6 times a week, 4 days off in a row is a shock to the system.

Thankfully, things seem to have sorted themselves out, and after a couple of awesome days outdoor adventures, including a rambling walk through Red Hook, many deep fried foods from the sea, a ferry ride back to Manhattan, a pedicure during which the pedicurist tried VERY hard to remove my calluses and I tried VERY hard to prevent that from happening (“Thanks, but I need them”), many delicious brunch foods, and a Sunday evening constitutional that concluded with a beer at Pier I while the sun set over the Hudson, the weird, empty, sad, fat, and lazy feelings gave way to “what an awesome weekend” feelings, MyFitnessPal be damed.*

*I’m not sure the Social Diet facilitates realistic and healthy expectations about marathon recovery, and it certainly detracts from the enjoyment of beer drinking, which is lame.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 33.  There are weeks during training when I don’t run that many miles, so any weird, empty, sad, fat, lazy feelings can go right to hell, thankyouverymuch.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week:  Just 3.  Instead, I went hog wild with sauvignon blanc last week, most notably on Wednesday night.  I did not feel exceptional when I woke up on Thursday morning.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: Smuttynose Finestkind IPA, Sam Summer, and Bell’s Amber Ale.

I don't know how to end this, so here's a tangentially-related clip about feelings by the best recording duo of all time:

If you suggest that this remake is in any way inferior to the original, you're dead to me.