I wasn’t feeling great this morning– something I ate caused my abdomen to blow up like a balloon overnight (I wish I knew what caused this!) I thought about skipping my Monday 3-miler, but in the end I decided that if I was going to feel like crap, at least I could feel like crap with my run done.
I had run out of sports bras (you know you’re training a lot when all your sports bras are dirty) so I pulled out the Moving Comfort Juno that I hated (and uhhh failed to send back) and strugglebug’d my way into it. Once I got it fastened and adjusted it wasn’t so bad, and it seemed to keep everything reasonably in place. (And now, post-run, I’m chafed in different places– my sides and on top of my boobs. At least my back can heal?)
Anyway, I headed out with very low expectations and… something strange happened. I was really fast (for me, of course). As I ticked off each 0.25 mile, my GPS kept telling me my pace and I said, “that’s too fast… is it broken?” Even on the uphill parts of my uphill-downhill route, I was making really good time, and I expected to poop out– but nope. Somehow I finished the 3 miles in 35:28– this would’ve been at least 30 seconds faster than my best 5k time 2 years ago, if I had run the extra 0.11 miles. Huh.
Hopefully I can keep this level of effort in my back pocket and pull it out for the race in a couple weeks! Maybe the moral of the story is I run best when I feel like crap and am wearing a weird sports bra?