When life gives you FAIL...

Last night, after an soul-suckingly unproductive day at work, I went to the track to do my first 800s workout. 4x800. I admit, I was nervous, but kind of excited to sprint out the frustrations of the day.
Fail fail fail.
My target pace was 4:22/800, which is about an 8:45 pace or so. I couldn't even manage that. I got 4:33 for the first one and 4:32 for the second. And then I was done. I just couldn't do any more. 2x800 crap.
It's either my body or my mind that betrays me. I'm not even sure which. But as I was jogging slowly to the start of the lane, giving myself a pep talk that if I could "just do one more, just one, then you can stop" I found myself just walking away. Through the gates, towards the road. And jogging off into, quite literally, the sunset. It's like my mind, through the pep talk, always just makes my body do what it wants.
It took awhile to get my breath back. I walked for a bit. Cursed myself. Wondered if I should just give up on running. If after a year of regular running and exercise, a 9 minute mile still feels like a dead sprint to me, it might just be time to find a new hobby. I'm not exaggerating - a 9-minute mile feels like a DEAD. SPRINT. I'm beginning to wonder if the only reason I did so well in my last 5k is because the course was incorrectly measured.
Anyhoo, I'm walking home all Debbie Downer and blowing my nose on my Ronald McDonald House tech shirt, when I decide on a whim to take off my shoes, jump the short sea wall, and do absolute-top-speed beach sprints barefoot. About 25 seconds each, jogging slowly back to the start, I think I did 5 or 6, and the sun was setting and frankly, it was amazing.
Just what I needed.

I hate resting.

Today I finally go to the doctor about my hip, after almost two months of pain/annoyance/still running on it even though I know it's a bad idea. My doctor will probably tell me to rest it, ice it, not run on it, and I will ignore her. Ignoring sage advice from a medical professional counts more than ignoring advice from WebMD and all your friends, right?
No, I won't really ignore her. But I'm going to keep my fingers crossed and hope "resting" isn't the only answer to this problem. I don't want to rest. The annoying thing about resting is that when I come back to running, it's like starting all over again. Since this quasi-injury, I haven't been able to consistently maintain a sub-10 minute mile pace for any distance. It's frustrating. My goal this summer is to start consistently running 9-minute miles, but it seems like such an unreachable goal at this point. My legs feel like lead.
On the upside, I shouldn't consider this "the summer" just because it's suddenly 90 degrees outside. That's a fluke. I'm getting ahead of myself.
The Run to Remember is in less than a month. Tomorrow, I am going to get up at 6am and run repeats at the track. Yes, I am. I have never done this before but I am going to give it the old college try.
Unless the doctor tells me to rest. In which case, I'll start resting on Thursday.

Hipper than thou

There is no denying at this point that there is something very wrong with my body. The pain has settled in my right hip, the same pain that I felt last week after not preparing for or stretching after the Tufts Health Plan 10k for Women. It had loosened up after this weekend's hike, but after last night's strugglicious 9 miles, it is back and worse than ever. I don't know what to do. I even did a short yoga routine with plenty of hip openers last night in the kitchen post-run. I can barely walk. The half marathon is in two weeks. I just want to ignore this until it's over and then figure out the next step, whether it be a massage or PT or foam rollering or ANYTHING BUT STOPPING.
The main issue for me is that I don't think I'm going to be able to finish the race. I pushed through the last three miles last night by sheer force of will, singing along to "All These Things That I've Done" through clenched teeth. My cardiovascular fitness is awesome, it's just that by mile 7 or so my legs stop working. My feet don't want to pick up off the ground, pains shoot through my knees, my feet ache, my arches fall. I don't want to entertain the idea that I may not be "built like a runner". My tiny, delicate, high arched feet might be causing these problems, but I don't know. I don't know how to fix it. I'm sick of buying new shoes every month or so, but my beautiful new Asics Nimbus 9s just aren't cutting it - my feet are swimming around in the 7.5 size, though the 7s squished my toes. Maybe I need narrow shoes. I don't know.
I'm witnessing and appreciating the affects a 9 mile run has on my mind and general sense of well-being and I don't want to lose that just because my body is being a party pooper.

The run itself was pretty fantastic. That loop around Pleasure Bay is mighty convenient, because it's about 2-3 miles but feels like nothing. It's so beautiful, even at night, and if I need to squeeze in an emergency long run, I can just loop around it twice and continue down the shore. I didn't stop once, and got up to what I'd probably estimate was a sub-9 minute mile several times. I still can't get over how beautiful Southie is at night. Looking at the city in the distance is kind of like a memory summary of my entire three years here, and then I see exactly how far I've come and how much further I have yet to go. I'm excited.