Sunday, I went out for my group run. Our schedule said "15K" which meant probably around 9 miles. Since I'd actually been running consistently throughout the week, I figured I could do it; I'd just be a little tired at the end. When I arrive, the running coach says, "Hey, we're running 12!" I think perhaps he means just the marathon folks, so I don't really say anything, also figuring that I could just walk or something if it's too much.
2 hours, 1200 calories, and 12 miles later, I'm back home stretching and eating a snack. I'm still a little shocked that I ran 12 miles. I mean, I'm training for a 13.1 mile run, and so I was not mentally prepared to run 12 miles. (That's not for another month! According to the training schedule). It surpassed my last week's run by 4 miles. Anyway, I'm happy that my body didn't revolt on me (like it wanted to last week) and seemed to not mind the distance too terribly much, except for being absolutely tired and requiring both a bath and a nap afterward. And an early bedtime tonight too.
Apparently next week is a "light" week (you know, only 6 miles), so it should be fun. And there's supposedly going to be waffles and breakfast burritos and coffee. Maybe by that time I'll have processed that I ran 12 miles and I didn't die. I didn't even feel all that bad*--it was just a lot of work.
Oh, and I met with Thesis Adviser today. I have deadlines! And chapters!
*My knees were achy. I need to do more strength training for the muscles around my knee. Also, I'm a little sore today, but not that bad. Weird how 8 miles was agonizing last week, but 12 was merely hard work.