The past week, I've been in a running funk. I have now had two long runs which I had to resort to taking walking breaks to complete. I know that some days are good and some days are bad, but I'm definitely not used to having two bad long runs in a row. This past Friday I was scheduled to run 14 miles. I got to 12 and decided to call it quits.
Mario eats a lot of timothy hay. To prevent the apartment from smelling like a barn we keep the majority of hay down in the garage. I have a smaller bin I fill up and bring upstairs. When I got home from my run I left my running stuff in the car and got out to refill his bin. When I was done, I was juggling the bin, my water bottle and cell phone. I locked the car and shut the door.
At the exact moment the door closed, I realized I didn't have my keys. I looked into the car and there they were -- inside and mocking me.
Our landlord lives inside the building and his two sons both work here, too, so I was optimistic ONE of them would be around to let me into the apartment. No luck. I left a message on the landlord's cell phone. I consulted with Boyfriend, who I live with (but happened to be at work), and came down to two options: Wait around for someone to come home to let me in, or go to Boyfriend's office to pick up his set of keys.
Boyfriend works pretty close to home so I decided to suck it up and run to his office (I was, after all already in running clothes). I had already been dreaming of eating a big bowl of pasta the last 3 miles of my run and was pretty hungry at this point. His office is only about a mile away so I got there in good time. Boyfriend refueled me with a piece of chocolate, and back home I came.
So in the end, I got my 14 miles done. I guess something was conspiring against me copping out of the last two miles of my run. Hopefully the funk lifts this week.