10K Training

I’ve run 3 half marathons and oodles of 5Ks, but when it comes to 10K races I have some sort of mental block. 6.2 miles is right in the middle of too short and too long, so it should be fairly comfortable, yet this distance has always been my racing unicorn.

To remedy this, I’m running a trail relay in April (taking the 6.5 mile leg) and the Borgess Run 10K in May. Are you sitting down, Reader?  I’m training for these races. Yep. I’m using a modified version of Hal Higdon’s intermediate 10K training program and it’s already kicking my butt.

Here’s what a typical week looks like between now and the first week of May:


No sweat, and #nosleeptilBorgess

Both Is Good

now bid me run, and I will strive with things impossible – Wm. Shakespeare

With 2016 and the big 4-0 just around the corner, my desire to run a sub-2 half marathon is growing. I still have some time to decide which race to PR: the Borgess Run or the Park2Park? The latter has a gorgeous, inspirational beach view at Mile 7, but the Borgess Run with its killer hills would leave me feeling more accomplished (and possibly more injured). It’s difficult to train for the springtime Borgess Run because I usually suffer through a terrible mid-winter sinus infection that knocks weeks off of my training schedule, but I’ve run this race twice [respectably] with little-to-no training so it can be done. Park2Park training would start in July, after Ramadan. I’d be a little shaky to start but it can also be done… soooo, I should probably do both.

Both is good.


Confession:  I turn into a big germophobe before races and business travel.  In the weeks leading up to such events, I take copious amounts of Echinacea, wash my hands more often, and double my personal space restrictions – you know, all the necessary precautions. 

But sometimes I have to laugh at myself, as was the case yesterday when I got my eyes checked.  I threw my contact lens case and cleaner into my purse, determined not to use the store’s questionable, community supply.  The doc tried hard to convince me that using the open bottle of soft contact lens conditioner on my gas permeable lenses would be fine, but I stuck to my guns and used my solution.  It wasn’t until I inserted the first lens 3/4 of the way onto my eyeball that I realized – in perfect horror – that I hadn’t washed my hands.  Flashback to the 100 frames I grabbed off the rack to try on before my exam, not to mention the door handles, the disturbingly wet towelette they lay out for contact lens wearers, and everything else I unwittingly touched.  I blinked several times, rapidly introducing all those beautiful germs straight into my body, and willed my immune system to kick into high gear.

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, right?  So I ordered a new pair of glasses.  And you better believe I took extra echinacea when I got home.