I get to run.

I did my longest run ever yesterday — 22.5 miles, all on trail, in the snow. It was harder than I expected. By mile 11, I was feeling like I would just like to be done. My ankles, knees, and hips were starting to hurt. I was feeling this way earlier than I have on other recent long runs. At this point, 10 or 12 miles feels routine, no big deal, nothing special. So even though I did a 5-hour fat bike ride the day before, I did not expect to be in the pain cave so soon.

I’d run 21 miles on a whim two weeks ago, and until yesterday, that was my longest run ever. Barb and I set out intending to run 17 or 18, but right before we got to the turn to head back towards the car, I made a joke about how maybe we should just try to go for 20. At the intersection, Barb looked at me and asked what I wanted to do. I hesitated, so she forged ahead in the direction of the longer route. I know you want to, she said. She wasn’t wrong.

In my (very loose) training plan for my April full AFT attempt, I had another week or two of build up before hitting my first 20-miler (I wanted to do at least three 20-25 mile runs before the 40-mile AFT). But with unpredictable winter weather and conditions, I felt like I should take the opportunity to get a longer one in while I could in case more snow and ice would necessitate abridged runs.

I already had fallen behind on my training plan due to snowy conditions, because running in the snow is extra hard and to be honest, I probably made that an excuse for a few weeks. Then I stressed myself out about how much (actually, little) I was running or where and when I was going to be able to get my long run in, to the point where I considered giving up the AFT attempt altogether. The point of all this is to have fun, and if it’s causing me stress, it’s not worth it.

A day of digging deep into my psyche set me straight, but I resolved to not let the challenges of training stress me out anymore. This is something I am choosing to do because it makes me happy and is a goal that I am excited about. For years, I struggled with injuries that made running long distances an unrealistic goal (strength training has been a game changer for me in that department). Two and a half years ago, I was in the middle of chemo and wondering if I’d ever be able to push my body to do these types of physical feats ever again. I don’t have to run, I get to run.

This is what I told myself last week, when I was unmotivated about going out in the slush. It ended up being a really fun run, despite the wind whipping ice pellets onto our faces as we traversed Tussey Ridge and our soggy, soaked feet from the melting snow and ice. It was an experience to remember, and in fact, every run that I don’t feel like doing ends up being great.

And this is what I told myself yesterday, when it took all my mental energy to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

It was a beautiful day to be out — sunny, just above freezing and cold enough that the snow wasn’t too sloppy and slushy but warm enough that it felt mild. We made a relatively flat and non-technical loop with the Mosse-Hanne Trail and Allegheny Front Trail, doing the last 14 miles on the AFT in the same direction we plan to during our full push to get a sense of what it would be like.

Aside from a few short but steep climbs and descents, most of the loop was very runnable. But just because it’s runnable doesn’t mean you have to run it, Barb reminded me. I tried to strike a balance between taking quick breaks to walk and keeping a steady pace. If I slowed down for too long, it was harder to get going again.

Around mile 17-18, I got a second wind for a mile or two. The aches had numbed and my legs had reached a plateau of tiredness. This happens to me on long bike rides — I reach a certain level of tired, but don’t really get more tired even as the hours pass by. I settle into endurance mode and just keep going. I love this feeling, and haven’t experienced it as much during runs until very recently.

But with running, the fatigue hits differently than with riding bikes. During rides, my legs will get tired, but on these long runs, my feet, ankles, knees, and hips begin to ache. Not in a “I shouldn’t be doing this” kind of way, just in a “I’m not used to doing this” kind of way. It’s harder to push through. That is part of the allure of this challenge. It is new and different, and with each long run I am doing something I’m not sure I could do.

These 20+ mile runs have somehow both made me more skeptical of my ability to do 40 miles and more confident. Skeptical because they have been so hard — how am I possibly going to double that distance? But confident because they have been hard — and I was still able to keep going and complete them. I guess we’ll just see what happens in April.