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Monday, September 17, 2012

It's Just Pain, Right?

So we did the 20 mile training run on Saturday.

Verdict: I don't know if I want to do this anymore.

I am not sure how I get myself into these situations. Wait, yes, I am. I am addicted to running, and I have a confidence problem. I have enough confidence for 5 elite runners. And I am only one, average carpool queen runner. And miles 0-18 have felt really good lately....so I thought I had this marathon in the bag. (Stop and laugh hysterically at that statement.) Let me tell you how impressive my arrogance is: On Friday, I tried to talk my girls into running a 50K with me. No, not 5K......a FIFTY K. That is 31 miles. I thought it would feel just like miles 0-18, only last longer. And we have some serious endurance. But that's the kicker, endurance is no longer an issue when you're a long distance runner. My lungs and heart could run a 100 mile ultra. No doubt in my mind. My bones and muscles vote no. And not just no, but HELL no.

Saturday morning, mile 19 kicked my arrogant little booty. Holy smokes. Wait, let's rewind, it really is more entertaining than that.

We were up and running by 5am. It was dark until 6:45am. We did about 10 miles in the pitch dark. Remember, we run on country roads...very few, or no, street lights. We used a cellphone with a flashlight app. We have headlamps, but only one of us thought to bring it, and that one was burnt out. We rock like that.

We cruised along, having our usual giggles until about mile 16. It started feeling more difficult, but usually we're done by 18 and so it's no big thing. By mile 19 we were all in quite a bit of pain for a variety of reasons that don't really matter. What it comes down to is this; no matter how well trained you are, your body starts to break down after awhile. And one of us became W-H-I-N-Y. And that one of us was ME. Jen and Traci were laughing at me and with me, and that was okay. I was even laughing at myself. I was a brat. By mile 18.5, I told them to forget the 50K, and maybe I might even forget the 26.2. What was I doing out here? Why was I running another marathon? Did I learn nothing two years ago? It is like going into labor with Baby #2. I now remember the agony, but I am dilated to 9 and past the point of no return.

I would love to tell you that the endorphins kicked in and I'm ready to rock that race in Minneapolis, but that would be a lie. I am kind of nervous now, and my heart is dreading it just a little. This might have been what I needed to properly get my head in the game over the next 20 days. (Gulp.) You have to respect the race.

Oh, and I may or may not have tweaked my knee last Saturday night while channeling a Solid Gold dancer and doing some kind of karate kick step. (If you're taking notes, I am not just stupid, but OLD, because really??? One little kick and my knee hurts for 9 days? What is that about?)

So now I will spend the next 480 hours tapering, praying, focusing, and remembering who I am, and who I am NOT.

Note to self: Not born in Kenya, but I can do this. And it is going to hurt. A lot.

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