Things pass

The longer I do Very Slow Marathons and other Glacially Slow Endurance Sports, the more I learn that the the title of this post is true. There's a thread on a running forum that I grace with my presence from time to time, along the lines of "how do you maintain a positive mindset during your long runs?" Keen Helpful Types have provided advice such as run with friends ,vary your route, never run with music becuase it stops you Communing With Nature, run with music, ogle local hotties, remind yourself that every step is making you fitter and stronger and getting you closer to your goals etc etc etc. God Bless their enthusiasm and their little wicking socks.
My answer? I DON'T.
Expecting your old mate LBTEPA to be in a positive frame of mind for the entirety of her long runs is about as realistic as imagining her willingly buying a white car with automatic transmission or leaving the house without lipstick. Not. Gunna. Happen. Recipe for disappointment. Just as a side topic, I find 'low expectations' to be a very helpful strategy in many situations. One is often pleasantly surprised.
Which leads me neatly to Saturday's long run. I don't know whether it was becuase I was coming down with something although you'd think I'd be used to THAT by now LE SIGH or whether I'd actually managed to string together a reasonable week of training prior to the run, but I was a bit leg-weary quite a bit earlier than usual. Like 5kms in. Bugger, I thought to myself, this is gunna be a toughie. And I was right (cue sinister music dun dun dun daahhhhhh).
As devotees of the LBTEPA Diaries will recall, I am lucky enough to run along the rail trail and be uplifted as I sweat by the beauty of the early morning sky, cows, trees, the music of the birds and frogs etc etc. That stuff doesn't always work, you know. If you're really stuck in a head full of I'm so slow, why do I bother, I'm a joke, I'm so fat, what a loser, I hate this, I'm so slow, why do I bother sometimes all the charming cows and delightful frogs in the world can't get you out.
No! you gasp, as well you might. However did our heroine make it through?
She sucked it up, that's how. After trying coaxing (come on, cheer up, you can do this), bullying (FFS* you big la-la stop being such a baby) and reframing (which only works when you know what? this isn't so bad isn't A Lie) - I came to the conclusion that this was just how it was going to be today. Oh well. A cranky noggin and tired legs does not equal stop and go home. Elementary, my dear Watson. Just Keep Going is a case of mind over matter - I hated every step, wanted to stop oh so badly and wished with all my heart that I had a less stupid hobby, but I didn't really mind so it didn't matter. I just kept going and going and going, drinking my water and having my gels and eventually I realised that I was feeling a bit less terrible. Mind you I was very happy when I rang my Mum and she agreed to run the last 6km with me, preventing me from lying down on the path refusing to move or ringing the Spousal Unit for a Lift Home Of Extreme Lameness. If she hadn't got a sniff of the barn and taken off 1km from home, thereby obliging me to chase her, I mean she's 72 for heaven's sake I have some pride we might still be friends.
Lessons from Saturday's 24km:
24km is a long way but slow people get there the same way fast people do - one step at a time.
Realising that you've done this before and didn't die is helpful.
Things pass if you let them.
Even if they don't, you can still Just Keep Going.
Mums are grouse even when they make you run (ahem) 'fast'.
Ice baths cannot be accurately described by persons who have foresworn swearing for Lent*.
More anon, scholars!
*thought-swearwords don't count