Tuesday: 9:43 km/avg 6:24/km with strides

Wednesday: Jump rope, 5 min, mobility stretches, clean (focus on proper technique and squats), 85 lbs, pull ups 4×6 (banded), banded good mornings, 4×12

Conditioning: 5 rounds, dumbbell clean and split jerk, 4x at 30 lbs, side shuffles. Time: 3:41

Friday: 7:06km, avg 6:23/km

Saturday: 6:46 km, avg 6:39/km

Sunday: 28.04/km, avg 6:39/km

I ran a full marathon this weekend. Really, it wasn’t my fault.

Sunday’s long run was meant to be 23km. I knew the route and was ready to go, even after two previous days of decent-size runs and somewhat humid weather.

Making my way into Rock Creek Park was easy. The weather was nice, a cool breeze ruffled the leaves on Beach Drive. Lots of runners, walkers and  bikers were out. It was a great time to be out.

Alas, I was supposed to turn left on Beach Drive to get to Oregon Drive, which would have dumped me on Western Ave (the border between the District and Maryland). Well, Apple Maps had other ideas. Instead of left, I went straight. Four kilometers, I got onto the Rock Creek Trail. Four miles to Connecticut Avenue. Okay, that won’t be too bad.

The trail wasn’t bad but I should know by now that Connecticut is always bad. ALWAYS. I eventually got to Connecticut Avenue. It should so happen to be Connecticut Avenue at 495. (If you’re like me and don’t understand D.C. directions, just know that 495 is the Beltway and a hella far distance from where I live in the District.)

After walking a mile, I figured there’s three options to get home: Walk, get a taxi and hope it costs less than $5 or, well, run. I have to do the mileage anyway, so off I went. I was tired as hell and my legs weren’t happy but I’m glad I did it. I experienced the mid-race slump at mile 13, which is pretty crucial to understand and have a game plan to overcome. I had plenty of energy gels and after a quick stop at the Chevy Chase Safeway, I was good on water. So, three hours and some change later, I got 18 miles under my belt.

It also gave me a confidence booster in knowing I really can finish the marathon race. I’m about half-way through my training and barring no injury God willing, I’ll be able to go the distance.

Another training score was Wednesday’s jump rope session. After mounting frustration on the blasting jump rope, I was about to give up and as a Hail Mary pass, I tried looking down at a spot on the gym floor and watching when the rope neared my feet so I knew when to jump.

In previous posts, I’ve lamented my complete lack of rhythm, jumping too soon, jumping more than I need to, stepping on the rope, etc. Everyone looks up when they’re jumping rope, happy, content and full of rhythm. I look forward and just feel my feet step on the damn rope. Looking down wouldn’t hurt at this point.

Then, it happened. I saw when to jump, when to land and when to jump again. It took my brain a few moments to process that I just completed 10 singles in a row with no problems. I tried it again. Another 10 singles. I focused on an unmovable point on the floor and allowed myself to move around it.

A small victory but a big one.