I woke up this morning with plans to run a 20k. I'd even skipped yesterday's run in favour of having a bit of a recovery before hitting this morning. (After all, running 4 days in a row is not always the smartest idea). But I got there and thought about this big group work out I'm doing with a friend this afternoon. Since this would likely be a "pre-fatigue" event to said workout, I thought I might cut it short and go to 16k or 18k. 16k isn't bad, right?
Nobody was doing a 16k. And really, if I wanted to run by myself I wouldn't be on a squad. So I found some people doing a 12k. Excellent! A bit shorter than I'd hoped, but when I suggested 14k they seemed open to the idea. 14k is decent.
...
And then I hit ~4.5k out and my ITB band started to act up again. The 5k mark is where we have our first "regrouping" at the drink station, so I stopped for some water and waited for one of my poor, injured friends to hobble along. We turned back and jogged slowly home, both of us lamenting over the frustrations of injury! My heart was in for the 20k (or at least a decent 14k) and I desperately wanted to be out running that distance but sometimes the body wins out over the mind. This was one of those times. :(
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