Running on the real. That’s the theme of this week’s entry. Because this is the week that things fell apart a little bit, in some unexpected ways. Maybe turning 30 in the middle of it had something to do with it? I'm not sure, but here goes.
I was all geared up for morning runs. I'm in this routine now--been going to bed earlier so I can get up earlier. I put my clothes right next to my bed before I got to sleep, so I can roll over and put them on right away. I drink a little water, but not too much, use the bathroom, stretch, and go.
So Tuesday I set out like normal. Went through the routine. Running at a decent enough pace. And then. I know it happens to runners. But it's never happened to me. And it was terrifying. You guys, I'm sorry, but I warned you--this is running on the real. So about half a mile in, my stomach starts to bubble. Not unusual--my stomach has been weird for a couple of weeks. Keep running, I think, It'll pass. 3/4 of a mile in...my digestive system has woken up...half an hour after the rest of me. And I have to go. There's been a lot of construction around, there has to be a Port-a-John somewhere. 8/10 of a mile--no Port-a-John. Panicking now. 9/10 of a mile. Woods. There are woods up ahead. It's still dark. No one will know. No one can see me. 1 mile--Woods. Big tree. I won't go into any more detail. But I think I own that tree now. And also that we might be kicked out of the village...
But if it means anything, I kept going. And it was a pretty good run. Regrettably, I forgot to turn my watch back on after I exited the woods. But, as I was running my new favorite route, I knew when to stop. So I ran three, even if my watch doesn't show it. And along the way, I saw this kitten at my favorite part of the route. He had a collar on, so he has a home (Chels, you're lucky ;-) )
Thursday I took the day off, because it was my birthday. Okay, that's not entirely true. I would have gotten up and done the damn thing. But Wednesday night was spent putting together a "shouldn't-have-been-so-complicated" entertainment center with my brother. took a little longer than expected, was up late. So no morning run. But I did turn 30, which was pretty cool. Went on a field trip to Comedy Sportz, got asked up on stage (because, you know, birthday) and ended up with two free tickets to come back. Went out the Umbrella Bar and got to see lots of incredible people, came back home for a fire after--a great day, all around. And a great weekend followed!
So the Thursday run became a "I'll do it Friday" run, because I had the day off, you see. But Friday was filled with all kinds of fun things (plus a frustrating phone call with a loan company over my loan forgiveness application) so the Thursday pushed to Friday run became an "Okay, Saturday for sure" run. So Saturday I waited until really, the last possible second--another night of fun was planned. So I set out, bound and determined to just get it done. It was going well. But somewhere towards the ends of mile one, I started to feel nauseous. Again, I've run through this before. I stopped to stretch and get a drink, then kept going. Decided to slow it down. Made it another tenth of a mile or so, and knew I had to stop. I'm big on listening to my body, and my body said--stop, or your'e going to puke. So I stopped. And walked home. It was defeating. And knowing that my next run was 12 miles...I wasn't feeling so great about it. But it was what it was. 
So Sunday comes. Spent the morning visiting some old friends, with some very cute little babies :) Spent the ride home getting psyched up. And I've found that this is the key. Using the week to mentally prepare. Telling myself, "On Sunday you are running __ miles; these little runs are nothing. On Sunday, you are running ___ f*$!%^$ miles..." So I did it. I ran for the longest I've run since my half. Chose a new route. Changed it up when my feet felt like chasing off in a new direction. Most of the run was pretty good. Not fast, but consistent. And when I got toward the bitter end, I started thinking to myself, "Your body knows how to run. It knows how to run fast. It knows how to run slow. It knows how to run 3 miles. It knows how to run 12. You can do this. Your body knows how to run." So I got it done. It was dark by the time I got home. It's getting to that point in the summer now, where the clock is going backwards...its getting darker sooner. I hate this time of year.
About halfway through the run, I came across this crazy cool house. Look at all the stuff!
So here I am, rolling along through week 8, the halfway point of my training. Saturday brings my longest run ever, 14 miles during the Fort 14. I am terrified! My body can run...but can it run that far?!
What did you wipe with?
ReplyDelete