This morning I ran 13.1 miles with Jon, who is trying to get ready for his first
mini marathon in May. I almost ran over a homeless guy sleeping on a step that I didn't see. Man, that would have sucked to have tumbled on him. I'd break a random bone and then I'd become part of his nightmare or something. I did this long, delayed-reaction scream/yell because he startled me and then I felt bad; I had woken him up. Sowwy.
I came home and still had energy so I went back out, planning on running 6 or 10 miles more. Well after 10.1 miles I couldn't just stop and not complete a marathon, so I tacked on 3 more miles and called it a day (and with no more ankle issues, btw).
I've learned that I do much better with long runs if I don't plan them out ahead of time (unless I'm going to be running with someone else, that is). If yesterday I had said I was going to run 13 more miles alone after my time with Jon, I probably would have headed back out and then made a million excuses as to why I was tired or sore and needed to quit. Instead, I went out with no expectations and since I felt good, I kept on going. That's the way to do it.