I’m generally good at deviating from a plan. I love traveling with no itinerary. When I go out for a social bike ride or run, I’m happy and often look forward to just winging it based on what just grabs me. But sometimes with training, I go out with a plan and knowing what I need to do. Whether it’s a certain distance, elevation goal, or pace goal. And when for some reason it doesn’t go according to plan, I really struggle mentally with the “failure”.
Today I went out with a plan to tackle 18 miles on my run. My friends are happy to accommodate that goal for the day, and so they come along for the fun. But today, did not go according to plan.
We all started out feeling tired and sluggish. But I suppose that’s to be expected when you get something like 700 ft of vertical in the first two miles. But as we neared the summit of North Table Mountain, the wind became absolutely brutal. We’re not strangers to adverse conditions. So we continued on our course. But the normal active conversation dwindled. We couldn’t hear each other over the wind. We couldn’t breathe when the gusts fired up. We thought for sure “around that corner” would be a reprieve. But it never came. You could tell, all of us were wearing down.
At some point as we came up to the utmost top, we all started acknowledging how miserable we were feeling. This wasn’t a race we needed to finish. This was a training run that could be attempted tomorrow. Our spirits lifted as we made the decision to abort.
I went out for 18 miles and only did 10. It feels like a failure. But truly, why should it feel like a failure? I know what I’m capable of. I completed a grueling 80 mile gravel ride in October in terrible windy conditions. So I know I can overcome the adversity. I just didn’t want that today. And I’m ok with myself for that… and am insanely grateful for my friends that feel the same way. 🤩