Running In Place

I’m going to call this day good. Not because I ran the race I wanted to, because I sure as shit didn’t, but because - and admittedly after some mourning - I will benefit greatly from this experience. It was a reality check for sure. Initially I was left with some overwhelming feelings of doubt about my ability to run the upcoming 15K but later, when I took a breather from beating the crap out of myself, I acknowledged that this was an encounter that had something to teach me. Well, I hope so anyway. Otherwise I will have to amend myself and call this a damn crappy day!

First of all, I was worried about this race. You know, at first my training program for the Boilermaker was totally cruising. I mean, all in all, I felt good and could clearly see my progress. Then my shin started to bother more and more and it seemed like the only thing to do to preserve myself for the race was to back down on the mileage for a couple of weeks and see if I could heal it, to some degree anyway. Since then, my training has been a mishmash - unfocused, difficult, and certainly without forward motion. And for the most part, my shin doesn’t seem to have improved all that much. It has good days and bad days but, as yet, is clearly not resolved. Anyway, my last longest run was 7 miles on May 12 and since then nothing longer than 5K. So, clearly, I wasn’t well prepared for this distance but since I’d registered pre-shin pain I thought I would see it through as best I could and mark it as the beginning of the resumption of my training in earnest (because frankly, shin or no shin, I’ve got to shit or get off the pot here).

The race wasn’t scheduled to take off till 3:55 pm so I slept in, sat on the porch, and got ready in a leisurely fashion. But my nerves were jumpy and the peanut butter and banana sandwich I ate in the morning seemed to sit in my belly for a long time. About 3 hours before start time I had a fruit smoothie and chewed on some crystalized ginger. I drank water throughout the day.

This run through the village of Clinton benefitted the Kirkland Art Center. There were a variety of runs from a kid’s 1 mile fun run to, what I was told was, a kick butt 10 miler. Not to judge a runner by his/her looks (though I did), I could tell just by looking around that I was going to be firmly and consistently at the back of the pack. Which was fine - I knew I couldn’t go too fast, I knew I had to pace myself for 6 miles, not 3, I knew it was hotter and more humid than I had previously run in. I knew I knew I knew.

So, off we go. I really was trying to not go off too quickly and, when the pack spread out, I was one of the last few people bringing up the rear initially, but within the first mile some of the people directly ahead of me started walking. I was like oh yeah, this is how it will go, I will stay back and as the people who went off too fast tire, I’ll so make my move. Suddenly, it was the first mile and I looked at my watch - 10:30 - not cool, that’s around my 5K race pace. Got to slow down.

Which I did…some. Mile 2 was notable for passing a few more people but, dammit, not being able to get by the racewalking lady! This mile was closer to where I had wanted to be (11:00-11:30), at 10:58. These first 2 miles were on village streets and, although the sun was shining down pretty hot, there was lots of shade from trees lining the roads.

Ok, here’s where I - OF COURSE - started screwing up my splits. I mean, for the most part, it’s not rocket science but damn if I can manage to push that stupid little button on my watch at the right time. It’s probably just as well because after mile 3 I wouldn’t be too eager to share them anyway. Things started to get harder for me between 2 and 3. It was pretty well flat but the shady areas were becoming few and far between and I was really feeling the heat of the sun. It seemed like it was F O R E V E R to the second water stop, though it was probably a little less than 2 miles altogether, and I felt like that really took a toll. I felt very dry.

Alot of mile 4 was uphill to the turnaround and, although the corollary to that is that you get a good bit of downhill to follow, it wasn’t enough to give me the boost I needed to get through the next 2 miles.

After the hill, I was really fighting. I knew I went out too fast and really tried to slow down, but ultimately I think the heat and the sun did me in. In mile 5, I was running slow, really slow. I had, as always when I’m struggling, resolved to run as slow as I needed to, to keep running and not walk (simply, as I’ve stated before, because that’s not part of my own personal goals - not because I hold any judgement regarding run/walk training). At this point, people who are coming back from the 10 mile run are tearing past me (I’m not exaggerating, they were screaming by!!). Meanwhile, I’m getting a little nervous - my breathing isn’t too bad, I mean I’m working and puffing but I’m not gasping, I feel like I’ve got my breathing under control for the most part. And I’m not really having any untoward pains in shin or ankle. I did have a sharp stitch in my right upper abdomen which I was able to kind of exhale out. But, ultimately, I felt just utterly fatigued - different even than lead legs - my legs weren’t heavy, they just had no strength, it felt like something quite different even though it sounds the same. I tried to put it all aside and just keep going but then my peripheral vision started to get foggy and I started to get the chills and that, getting the chills on an 80+ degree day mostly, freaked me out enough to slow to a walk. I don’t know if it meant anything, but I guess I just didn’t want to take the chance.

So, and maybe people who have had to walk when they didn’t plan on it know this, but walking is kind of the devil because once you do it, damn if you think you might never want to start running again, certainly not in this race! So I walked for a fair bit, until I felt I had collected myself, then I ran very slowly to the next water stop and walked again. I was in the last mile now and the chills had subsided but the weakness had not and I thought this is the worst because not only have I exhausted myself physically but now my mind keeps screaming JUST WALK!! Towards the end of the 6th mile there was one more hill and I walked up it, and it’s kind of scary to even say this but, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to walk up it. And I was not walking briskly, I was plodding - and I was so completely exhausted that I wasn’t sure I would do it.

Kindly, the last 0.2 was downhill which made it possible for me to run in with arms pumping and heels kicking as though I was some kind of fucking hero. Thank you gravity! Again, and as usual, I forgot to hit my watch or look at the clock when I crossed the line. Damn multi-tasking! So I estimate my time to be about 1:18:00ish. I don’t know if they post the times on-line for this race but I’ll wait and see. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter that much anyway. If my time is really 1:17:48, is it really any better? If it’s 1:18:12, is it really any worse???

I think that I was 2nd to last in the 10K, but I also think that some of the people I passed in the first couple of miles veered off at the 5K Walk turn (which, ya know, was damn tempting! ) so……well, so what, really.

Summary (as if) - I crossed the finish line feeling about as dejected and decrepit as could be. I walked back and forth on the sidewalk just to get my feet back under me and drank a couple of cups of water. There was a festival going on across the road at the village green, and maybe that’s where the bagels and fruit and stuff were, but I was not up to being with people. I slugged back to the car and had a little cry over an orange and another couple bottles of water. I was dry, and I had a headache, and even then when I was all pissed off at myself I thought you have learned a valuable lesson today about what you will be facing in 5 weeks. Even still, I was not yet comforted. I headed for Dunkin’ Donuts and got a bagel and iced latte’ and started thinking about all the encouraging words I give to others who, in my eyes run tremendous races and, in their own eyes run very disappointing races. I thought about why I don’t apply this to myself - and then, if I did, how maybe it would help me instead of giving me a reason (excuse) to be unkind and unforgiving to myself. Because, really, that’s easier. It’s easier to say I suck and I can’t do this and I’ll never be good at….But - HA HA - I have foiled myself today and so this is not a defeat, you see, it is a step forward. And that quote that I slapped on the end of a previous post has really come to mean something much more on this day.