Last week’s 20 mile run was atrocious.  It wasn’t hot out by any means — maybe 70-ish — but the humidity was about 90%, so it felt 10 or 20 degrees hotter.  And I’m not built for hot.  I was dripping by the end of mile one, and despite drinking four pounds of Gatorade, I lost three or four pounds of body weight anyway.  Needless to say, my time sucked.  The rest of the week was a nightmare of exhaustion and bad moods and such.

I was still knackered even on Saturday, when I ran eight miles in 37 degrees and 20 mph wind.  But I was starting to feel a bit more rested, even if my speed was still rotten…

Then yesterday I finished my easy week with a twelve-miler.  And I blazed — 8:15s on average, on a hilly course in chilly weather.  So while I’m now facing my final heavy week, ending in another 20-miler next Sunday (my 46th birthday), I’m feeling pretty darned good.  Yes, I expect to be walloped again next week — but then I’ll be in my three weeks of tapering before the big day.  Life is good…