I have always been a self-motivator. Usually, all it take for me to tackle everything that's thrown my way, is my desire to do so. I like accomplishments. I want to be able to say I've done this or that. No one else needs to hold me accountable. I will do that myself.
But being a self-motivator is a double edged sword. You see, self-motivators have drive. A lot of drive. In fact, sometimes, too much. And on occasion, being self-motivated can completely backfire.
Take this past week for example. It was a cutback week for me. 46 miles on the schedule (plus three days of P90X and five days of Ab Ripper X.) On Wednesday morning, I was on track. I had run 18 miles, cross-trained once and finished Ab Ripper X twice. Things looked good. Then, as we all know, on Wednesday night, I got a stomach bug. I missed one workout. Then another. But, by Thursday night, I was feeling better and decided to cross-train.
On Friday, I still wasn't feeling 100%, but things were manageable. That night, after the girls were in bed, I ran 6 miles AND cross-trained. I was making up for lost time. Trying to get back on track. I was being sabotaged by my own self-motivation.
Then Saturday came. And I could barely move. Friday night kicked my butt. So much so, that I decided to cut a 10 miler from my weekly schedule. it killed me to do it. It didn't matter that no one would ever know or care about that skipped run. I would. But, I knew wasn't strong enough to run. And I tried to be a logical thinker, which is incredibly hard when you are a runner first ...
With 10 miles already missed, I headed out on Sunday morning to meet G and some of the Posse. We had 12 on the schedule. But I knew from the beginning it was doomed. I wanted to believe that I was ready. And when we started, I really thought that I was. But a series of odd events from my Garmin freaking on me to missed turns to being told over a loud-speaker that (and I quote) "Your outfits are weird," started to lead me to believe otherwise.
(Note: Our outfits were not weird. See? Like I told G, "We're not weird. We're Skittles")
Anyway, by mile 4, I was feeling really "off." I knew we were making a drop-off at mile 6 and I decided to stop. Then I went home and slept for two and a half hours.
Ugh. 16 miles short this week. I have never missed mileage like that. I was so disappointed in myself. I pride myself in my strength and perseverance. And missing a third of my total mileage was a tough pill to swallow.
I know that sounds crazy and that I made the smart decision. But the thing about being Type-A is that you hold yourself to a very high standard. A standard that you probably wouldn't hold others to. I know this. And I know that missing 16 miles of a 700+ mile training plan is NOTHING. I know that it won't make a difference on race day. And I know that it was smarter to miss the runs now, in a cutback week, than during a peak week. But that doesn't make it any easier.