This was a tough, tough run. Running 18 miles is no joke to begin with but doing it all on your own (in silence because you forgot your iPod) borders on insanity.
I wasn't sure where to go for a 9 mile out-and-back route so I went down to Ken-Gar since I'm familiar with that. The initial plan was to go north for a bit before turning around and finishing up on the south side. North is a much tougher, hillier route and I didn't think I wanted to do 9 in that direction but once I started going I decided it was a nice change of scenery (we do south A LOT) and just kept trucking. I was pretty much waddling from the beginning, doing 13 minute miles even though I felt like I was going faster. No need to stress or speed, I wasn't out there to kill myself just to get the miles in. 7 miles north I hit Lake Needwood which is perilously close to my house, almost close enough to call Bo and say "hey, come get me." But instead I trudged up one nasty hill to the parking lot, took a break at the portapotty and headed back south.
Around mile 10 I started hurting, my right thigh was tight and sore and the top of my left foot was achy in all kinds of new and exciting ways. I ignored it the best and two miles later I hit The Silencer. And I owned it. I may have waddled, or trudged, or crawled but I sure didn't walk those .14 miles or sheer hell. I kept running until I hit the little park on the other side and stopped for water. I had to decide then whether to keep heading south, running past the car, or to wander another trail north for a few miles to get in the extra four I needed. Since I was hurting and struggling so much I decided, perhaps unwisely, to hit the Henson trail north. I figured if I got to the car I'd probably get in it and maybe I should have stopped anyway but darn it I was finishing these miles!
So north again. More hills. More pain. Bo called around mile 14.75 and asked if I wanted him to come pick me up. Tempting, but no thanks, I can make it from here. It's only a little over three miles, right? So on I went, taking some walk breaks. When I got back to the little park I realised I'd overshot and it would be more like 18.5 miles when I got back to the car. Oops.
At 16.88 miles I was waiting for a light with a guy on a bike. He asked how far I was going and I told him, he said "Man, that's nuts. I'm supposed to do 10 tomorrow but 18 is just crazy, that's a long, long way." I agreed and dragged my sorry butt across the street, each wishing each other good luck.
I stopped at 18.13 miles and walked another .35 or so back to the car, I just had nothing left at that point. With the exception of my calves everything hurt by that point, even my arms were sore and I had a bruise on my hip from one of my water bottles. I barely had enough energy for 10 minutes of stretching before I got back in the car. I wasn't really mentally or physically prepared for that run but I made it. Running alone is tough, all you've got is your own pain and misery and no one to share it with or to encourage you. I didn't feel quite as accomplished as after the 16 miler but I'm proud that I did it on my own.
No comments:
Post a Comment