What are my long runs like, you ask?
Picture a young man, full of energy, leaving the front door with confidence and a sprightly step. Now take that same man, add three hours and a little sunburn, give him the confused stare and wandering gait of a 90-year-old Alzheimer's patient, and that about sums up my long runs.
It's official. 20 milers are now back in my life. Ran 20 miles yesterday afternoon and spent the rest of the day trying to recover. I usually never ice my legs unless I have a specific pain I'm trying to address, but I'm trying to be more proactive in this training cycle, so more ice it is.
As I've said, long runs are never glamorous. There are no spectators to cheer you on and buoy your spirits, there are no water stations, no fellow runners to offer camaraderie and support (unless you run with a group, which I don't). You just have to grit your teeth and get through it as best you can, because these awful runs are what give you the physical and mental strength to get through the actual marathon when it finally arrives.
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