🟢 Lost Pace – The Missing Week (May 7–13)

May 7 – The Hill I Didn’t Need to Climb

The day after a 5K tempo run.
Every part of me knew what I needed: stillness.
But stillness doesn’t come easy to me.

So I moved.

I walked 11.6 kilometers that day, climbing steadily up to a small rural area called Bıldırcın Köyü. It wasn’t a fast walk — 12:48 pace, 353 meters of elevation, 81W power. My heart rate hovered around 75, calm like I was doing the right thing.

But I wasn’t.
This wasn’t recovery.
It was avoidance dressed as movement.

My HRV that morning was 51.
Resting heart rate: 47.
Readiness: 6.

I ignored them all.

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May 8 – Intervals and the Ghost of Speed

I went back to the 300m track.
The surface I know too well.
The shape of the curve, the texture of the turns — familiar, like an old argument.

It started with an easy jog. 2–3 km warm-up.
Then came the intervals.

I didn’t count them at first. I just ran.
65, 75, 70, 71, 72, 67, 67, 72…
Then something changed.

A kid appeared. Maybe 18.
He started sprinting, wild and loose.
I chased him. No reason, no plan. Just instinct.

Final reps: 59, 73, 77, 59.

That 59 felt like borrowed power. It didn’t come from fitness.
It came from competition — from not wanting to be overtaken by youth, by time, by myself.

HRV: 58
Resting HR: 47
Readiness: 10

It looked like a strong day.
But my legs told another story.

May 9 – Dancing Through Disruption

The plan was rest.
But the calendar had other ideas.

My little cousin was getting married.
Not something you skip — not even for recovery.

I walked to the venue: 6.3 km, 11:01/km pace.
No effort, no sweat — just light movement, enough to say I stayed active.

Then came the hard part: staying awake.
The wedding ran long. I was surrounded by joy, music, movement… and fatigue.
I smiled. I laughed. I kept my eyes open.

Midnight bedtime.
Three hours later than usual.
Sleep didn’t come easy. Not after the noise, the social effort, the disruption of routine.

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May 10 – Restless Legs, Restless Thoughts

I woke up before 4:00 AM. Again.

Four hours of light sleep. No deep phase. No reset.
Just enough to make me resent the morning.

I was irritable. Short-tempered.
But still — I walked. 10.3 km. Flat road.
Pace: 12:50/km. Heart rate: 67 bpm.

I wasn’t searching for anything.
I just couldn’t sit still.

Maybe I was chasing silence.
Maybe I was punishing myself.
Maybe I just didn’t want to be alone in my mind.

Calories that day: 2502
Macros: 67g fat, 360g carbs, 93g protein
HRV: 56
HR: 51
Readiness: 9

It looked like recovery.
It didn’t feel like it.

May 11 – Another Track, Another Wall

I wanted to fight the heaviness.
So I went back to the track.

Same 300-meter loop. Same shoes.
But not the same body. Not the same heart.

I warmed up: 3K in 20 minutes.
Then the intervals came.

71, 70, 67, 70, 71, 64, 74, 76, 64 seconds.

They weren’t slow.
But they weren’t sharp.
My legs moved — my mind dragged.

Everything felt like effort:
Pushing off, holding form, finishing reps.

Even cooldown — 6.5 km in 44 minutes — felt like a quiet surrender.

HRV: 59
HR: 48
Readiness: 9
Calories: 2783
Macros: 69g fat, 420g carbs, 98g protein

My body was doing everything right.
I just wasn’t there with it.

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May 12 – Hunger Has a Voice

Another sleepless night.
Another morning with no energy — and too much of it.

I walked again. 10.3 km. 11:58/km pace.
Heart rate: 66 bpm.
But I felt weaker than usual.

Every step had a thought attached to it:
“Why am I doing this?”
“Shouldn’t I be resting?”
“Why can’t I stop?”

Later that day, the real storm came — hunger.
Insatiable, irrational, emotional.

3566 kcal.
531g carbs.
136g protein.
86g fat.

And still, I wasn’t full.
Emotionally, physically — I was in deficit.

Stress crept in.
I ate as if it would fix something deeper.

It didn’t.

HRV: 58
HR: 46
Readiness: 10

The numbers said I was ready.
I wasn’t even stable.

May 13 – Trying to Push, Failing to Fly

Stryd suggested a suprathreshold interval workout.
I accepted. Partially out of habit. Partially out of pride.

I followed the workout.
Twelve intervals. Different speeds. Uneven effort.
The numbers were all over the place.

I started strong:
269m at 3:50/km pace. 280W.
But I couldn’t hold it.

Then came slower reps:
264m at 3:55/km – manageable.
347m at 7:56/km – collapsed.
1.1K at 4:25/km – grinding.
322m at 8:42/km – cracked.

My power dropped.
My stride shortened.
Heart rate refused to climb.
Form power? Efficiency? Gone.

It wasn’t training anymore.
It was drifting through a plan that no longer fit.

Calories: 3095
Carbs: 440g
Protein: 103g
Fat: 92g
HRV: 58
HR: 42
Readiness: 10

Ready?
Not even close.

After the workout, I sat in silence.
I looked at my watch. At the numbers. At the sweat.
And then I looked past all of it.

I whispered something I didn’t want to admit:

“Something needs to change. But I don’t know what.”

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Final Mantra – May 13

“I didn’t rest. I didn’t break. I just kept moving in the fog.”