So far, I give myself an F in tapering. Last Friday, after running 55 miles the previous week (my highest weekly mileage in non-race week, ever), I felt great. Legs felt great, body felt great, mind felt great. I jogged up Mt Montara and barely broke a sweat.
Today, after 25 miles this past week, I feel the opposite of great. My legs feel heavy, they creek and the brazen confidence I had early in the week is slipping away. Two runs in a row am I thankful the race isn't today. Who knows, maybe that's the way you're supposed to feel two days before a race. But somehow I don't think so.
The blessing and the curse of living in San Francisco is that it's nearly impossible to find a flat place to run. Surrounded by hills and wary of yet another flat slog along Embarcadero I cruised my 5-mile loop from home to (almost) Twin Peaks and down. I figured that maybe some hills would help shake the legs a bit.
After a couple miles they did loosen up, but no spring. To my credit I didn't really push it, but when you don't have it, you don't have it.
Like I said yesterday, I am sure glad the marathon wasn't today!