Day 59: The Longest Day (Or at Least It Felt Like It)

A Rocky Start

Today began with all the grace of a giraffe on roller skates. Sleep and I were not on speaking terms last night, thanks to an ill-advised Dr Pepper at Five Guys. Caffeine and I have an understanding—specifically, that I should avoid it after midday unless I want to spend the night engaging in a staring contest with the ceiling. Every half hour, I was jolted awake, as though my body had a secret agreement to check if the alarm had gone off yet. When it finally did—at 5am—it was, unsurprisingly, unwelcome.

Dragging myself out of bed, I got ready for my planned morning run in Rochester, only to be met with weather that could best be described as ‘atmospheric catastrophe.’ Running in the rain is one thing, but running in whatever that was felt like a direct challenge from the universe. Begrudgingly, I postponed my run until after work—something I rarely enjoy but had to accept, as I reminded myself that back in 2019, nearly all my marathon training happened after work.

The Threshold Run: An Exercise in Stubbornness
After a long, busy day, I laced up and headed out for what felt less like training and more like punishment. Today’s session included a 16-minute threshold run—something that seems to be appearing more frequently in this training plan. There’s a clear emphasis on high-intensity efforts, with just a sprinkle of longer runs to keep things interesting. Sundays appear to remain sacred as long-run day, like some sort of religious observance but with more sweating.

The run itself was tough. My body was still protesting last night’s poor sleep, my legs felt like lead, and, as if on cue, the rain returned—because, of course, it did. It took everything to push through, and my heart rate seemed reluctant to acknowledge the effort. But I kept going, knowing that the reward waiting for me at home wasn’t just the satisfaction of completing another session, but also dinner—hot, ready, and requiring no effort on my part. Truly, the hero’s welcome I deserved.

A Cautionary Ice Pack and Hope for Dry Skies
Once home, my knee got the now-routine treatment of a precautionary ice pack. It’s not complaining too much, but I’d rather stay ahead of any potential issues. Hopefully, by tomorrow morning, I’ll be back at it—preferably in dry conditions and with a proper night’s sleep behind me.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from marathon training, it’s that some runs feel fantastic, and some feel like wading through treacle while wearing ankle weights. Today was definitely the latter. But it’s done, and that’s what matters. Onwards!