John laid it out to me last week that 8 miles was right about the upper limits of what I should do. Part of me wanted to go ahead and do a 10 mile just to prove him wrong but after doing 8 miles yesterday, I would agree with him.
The weather was in the low 80's and muggy and I was more resigned to the idea of running 8 miles instead of being pumped about it. Zoe, the malamut had just changed from puppy to grown dog chow and stopped at least 10 times during the run to deficate, so there were ample breaks and we lowered to pace to roughly nine and a half minute miles.
I had a couple of low moments where I wanted to give up, which scared me. I've always prided myself in being a mentally, if not physically tough person, and I've always liked how endurance sports have pushed me against that edge of giving up. Having conquered my endurance limits in the past I've begun to believe that that was just part of my persona. In reality, I'm only as tough as the last time I pushed myself.
Perhaps that's at the heart of my current funk. I've just lost touch with my badass side and with it some of my confidence. It's a powerful lesson, but it's something I've realized in myself and can actively work on. It'll be another couple of weeks till I can crush an 8 mile run, but I did wake up this morning without even a hint of soreness.