The Difference A Week Makes

Last Monday I was lamenting to you about embracing the suck of the inevitable bad run and here I am, seven short days later excited to tell you about the great 18 mile run I had on Saturday. It's amazing the difference a week makes, and lends further credibility to the fact that you just have no control over how one run from the next plays out.

Thanks to getting slammed with yet another snowstorm we needed to come up with an alternative for our long run, we also needed to make our way up to Midland to pick up my new car and that's when Spike came up with the idea of killing two birds with one stone: we would drive up to his parents Friday night and run the Pere Marquette Rail-Trail Saturday morning before we got my car. He knew from previous experience that it was maintained in the winter, and a quick call to request recon from B&B revealed that it had already been cleared post-storm, in fact, it had been cleared before their own street had! 

Saturday morning we pulled in to the trail-head at the Tridge and found it bustling with other runners milling about, coming in, or heading out for their own run. It was about 7* but the sky was a cloudless bright blue and full of dazzling sunshine, my favorite kind of winter running day. I had 18 M planned and Spike had 15 M so we agreed to run the first 5 miles together before Spike would break away to speed it up. 

Two feet of snow to each side, ice covers the trees,
and just look at that clear path!

Those first 5 miles flew by quickly, the path was incredibly maintained and even opened to be about as wide as a country road as we crossed over bridges and past scenic parks. I had broken up the run in my head into increments of 5's: Powerbar Gel's at 5 M, 10 M, 15 M, and then the last 5k, to help mentally prepare for my longest run in two years. The miles ticked of easily as I kept a steady pace, but the last 5k got a little tough. When I hit mile 16 I pumped myself up for a few minutes by talking trash to last week's run. "You didn't beat me! I'm back and I'm going further!" Yeah... that's probably weird and I'm glad no one overheard me. Then I hit mile 17 and I was even loopier, hitting what Spike called the "Disney Delusional Point" wherein I started belting out songs from the Little Mermaid. What? It happens. Thankfully, the end was soon in sight and the second I heard the mile beep I stopped, exhausted and triumphant. 18 miles run and done! 

I rounded the bend after finishing to find this
"love note" Spike had left me; who needs the
beach, we northerners write our love in the snow! 

The difference a week makes during training never ceases to amaze me, if only they could all be this good eh? But then again, without the bad ones we might take these great ones for granted. You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of... training!

And in case you were wondering, after the run we celebrated by picking up my dearly departed Lola's replacement, my new, super sporty, as-yet-unnamed, Ford Focus Hatchback and then visited the local running store, Runners Performance of Midland. All in all a fantastic Saturday!

Spike groans every time I call it "Hocus Focus,"
the only name I've come up with for it, so far.  

I'm totally using that line: "Fast girls have good times!" Ha!

How did everyone else fare the storms? Were you able to get your long runs in outside or were you stuck dreadmilling it up inside? Any suggestions for naming my new wheelz?