The last time that I was training for a marathon in 2010, I was nearly thwarted during my first 12-mile run. Basically, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Bad navigation, changed ferry schedule, Fleet Week, route change, crowds, and no sourdough chowder (for more, read here). It was annoying, although I was pleased that despite all of these annoyances, I finished the run. And I got a fishwich.
Today, I didn't quite have that, although it is the first 12-mile run and things did not go as planned. As you may recall, I have an awesome foster dog that I am hosting for the Humane Society of Tampa Bay. However, the foster dog and I disagree on the relative merits of me running on the treadmill. He is not in favor of it. For the past couple of runs, I have come up with an ingenious plan of blocking the treadmill with furniture, thereby blocking his route so that he cannot leap onto it in dramatic fashion (and fly off of it in even more dramatic fashion. I should probably add here that the foster dog is 3-legged and recovering from his amputation surgery). I tried crating him while I did this, but he was genuinely not in favor of being crated when I was in the house (he is crated when I go out. I have no idea what his views on this are, but if he feels like barking for hours on end, more power to him. I don't think that he does, though, because he is never barking when I get home). For the past two times I have been on the treadmill, he has sat on the couch, at first with annoyance (and some whining), but then reconciling with his fate and taking a nap. The plan worked well for everyone.
Tonight, I got through 70% of my run before the dog had had enough of this nonsense. He started whining and I got concerned that he needed to go out--smart dog! So we went out for a bit which I was hoping would wear him out for the nap. Yes, that is how slow I am during long runs: so slow that you need to take the dog out for a walk during them. Anyway, my brilliant plan in no way worked because then he decided not only that he had had enough of this nonsense, but that he would leap off the couch and start becoming very curious about the treadmill. Blerg.
I figured that I had two choices: risk him leaping on the treadmill or crate him (I tried tempting him with rawhide and a plastic Nylabone: no dice). I could also have run outside, but it is 75F with 87% humidity and intermittent showers. Plan 1 was to go run outside in the first place, but there was a serious storm earlier tonight which put the kibosh on that idea. I opted to crate him. Bad plan. He barked. And barked. And barked. And while I know that I am not supposed to give in to him barking on the grounds that he will continue to do so next time since he knows it works, I was concerned that my neighbors in the next unit of my detached building would come and kill me since it was getting late.
I caved. I gave up at 10.4 of the 12-mile run. This is super annoying, although I do feel from a physical standpoint that I was capable of running it--it is even more super annoying because I had to end Tuesday's run early due to fatigue (at least I finished Thursday's run without incident!). However, things are not totally grim. Next week is another 12-mile run, so I don't feel like this distance is totally out of reach or that I am necessarily missing a key component of training. I have no idea why me and the 12-mile run have such issues. Perhaps this will be the motivation I need to get up early and get the long run over with in the great outdoors, thereby ensuring that nary a dog can jump on the treadmill deck.
[I would just get a dog gate--and yes, there are dog gates--except that I think I'll wait to see how long the dog is going to be here before making that investment. Or scope Craigslist for one.]
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