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I shouldn’t be mad, but I am. I was mad that I skipped 2 weekday runs on a cutback week. I was mad that Saturday was only (only! that word!) 5 miles, but the humidity was 70+ percent on a not so hot summer morning. I was mad that I couldn’t do an easy five, despite the weather and Michigan hills.

Only 5. Whatever confidence I had last week didn’t carry over.

On Sunday, I went to see a friend take on the Steelhead 1/2 Ironman. It was his first 70.3 and he finished well. I brought tongue depressors and Vaseline in solidarity. It made perfect sense to me. It helped the few who stopped to slather up.

Listening to race war stories over dinner the night before Steelhead and I didn’t have much to say. I wished I did. I think I mostly tried to make jokes.

This is the part where I’m supposed to say something profound or inspirational like “That was only week three. You’re supposed to struggle along the way. It’s normal.”

“Only Week Three” felt like a struggle and I really hope things turn around soon. Yes, it was humid. Yes, I’m not used to hills. Yes, I didn’t prepare the night before. Yes, I should cut myself some slack.

It’s now July and I just keep putting pressure on myself. I have an idea to incorporate swimming into cross-training. I’ve been doing pilates, but think I need a cardio cross-train. I have plan, I’m sure of it. Sorta. Maybe I’m mad.