I have no big race plans until April, when my first 50 miler is penciled in, but really that is just to make sure I qualify for the VT100 – by running a sub-12-hour 50 miler. I got the go ahead from the wife to run the HMRRC Winter Marathon at UAlbany in February, but that remains weather dependent. As such, I am not really training for anything in the immediate future. Rather, I am just kind of logging miles and building a base through the horridly cold winter.
My goal is to hit 55 miles. I get my long runs in and do about an hour at threshold, then spread the rest of the miles out across the week. In case you were not aware, I hate my treadmill, but it is a necessary evil with child care and the like. Ideally, I can log enough miles five days a week so that the other two can be spent on the treadmill logging the least number of miles possible while still hitting my goal mileage.
After yesterday’s threshold workout, I found myself at 54.9 miles for the week. That meant that today, I hardly had to move to hit 55 miles, but being that I set a goal of at least two miles a day my weekly mileage should have been 56.9.
Like an alcoholic declaring his last drink as he pops another tab, I found myself counting miles and justifying in my head. If I just do another three-and-a-quarter on the treadmill, I can hit sixty for the week. What’s three-and-a-quarter anyway? I really ought to be hitting sixty anyway. And so I did. The thing is, I set up the week so today could have been even easier, even shorter than the pittance it was, but rather than adhere to my plan, I pushed. I feel good, and the mileage is so little I cannot foresee it hurting anything, but I am really starting to wonder if any amount of mileage will ever be ‘enough.’