20 miles in a hurricane

News sources confirm that the epicentre
of the storm will arrive at 9 miles, and
linger until all self-doubt and loathing
have been ignited. 

I am going to run my first 20 miles of the program this morning. I didn't sleep well last night - not unusual the night before a long run - and awoke at silly o'clock after listening to the rain and wind battering against my window. There is some sort of incoming hurricane-storm approaching Ireland, and from the noises outside, I suspect that either it may already have started, or there is a large dragon in my garden with thunderous asthma.

I received a text early this morning from my running partner, and the conversation went something like this:

"Are you awake?"
"Yes," I texted back.
"How do you feel about doing the run?"
"Can't wait," I replied.
"Ok, do you want to go now since we're awake?"
"Sure, why not."

There's no backing out. Not running is not an option. Running less than 20 miles is not an option. I have to run, and I have to run this morning, in that storm. I don't think it will ever stop raining again, so it makes sense to start a couple of hours earlier than planned.

I'm perversely looking forward to this. It marks a seriousness in the program, another point of no return. And because I have completed all my long runs so far with surprisingly relative ease, I am immediately suspicious. I have been awaiting the one horrifically tough long run that has seemed obligatory on all my previous marathon programs: the slow, painful process of dragging myself through the final few miles in solitude and self-loathing after my glucose levels crash through poor energy management. This hasn't happened yet, and I only have the two 20s to go in terms of long long runs. I am wary of looking for confirmation that today will be tough - the storm outside is a fairly obvious sign, however - because that would be rather like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Something in my brain tells me that I should find the long runs unmanageably tough; that I should be struggling with them. So much so that I asked my running partner after the successful 17 and 18 miles, over and over again, "Are you SURE we ran far enough?" But perhaps I am simply stronger and more disciplined than I give myself credit for, and running for over three hours in the vicious wind, rain and cold simply builds strength of character. That or a severely weakened immune system.

20 miles in a hurricane. Here goes.