And considering how that one went – Boston, 88 degrees, and beastly – I could have have given them up entirely. Instead, stubborn warrior girl that I am, I wanted a rematch. With both the marathon and that course. Boston ended up my 1st, 3rd and 5th.
Number 12 is approaching… in 3 1/2 weeks. And they still haven’t gotten any easier. But i’ve gotten better at training and embracing the suck. 🙂
So Sunday, in honor of Boston the following day, as part of training for the Maine Coast Marathon and as a celebration of my marathoniversay – I had a 20-miler planned for Sunday.
And…much like that day in Boston, the weather has drastically different ideas.
I headed out the door fairly early, but it was already 60 degrees. By mile 9 it was sunny mid-60’s and climbing and I desperately needed water, a lighter shirt and my hair up. So, route altered and home for a ‘water stop / wardrobe change’.
By mile 10 the bargains started… make it to ten and walk 1/4 mile. And I did a couple of ‘mile repeats’ with a 1/4 mile walk break. And desperately looked for shade. At the half-mile marker (2:20) I realized that 20 miles was so not going to happen. And myself I would keep moving until I hit 3 1/2 hours (the time 20 usually takes me) and I would run at least a few steps of every mile. (which got progressively harder).
I know I sound like a wimp…but after a cold winter and usually running in 40-50 degrees, high 70’s – 80’s was way more than my body was ready for. I was dehydrated and overheated and had no interest in collapsing on the side of the road. And it did hit me that OMG, I had this same problem 5 years ago today.
At mile 14, about a mile from my house and more cold water I kind of worried I wasn’t going to make it without water. But no problem – I had my ‘water fund’ in my pocket and a golf course up ahead.
Because golf courses have vending machines right? Wrong. Not this one. Of course, its easter and hot sweaty red-faced me walked into a clubhouse full of people in nice dresses and an easter bunny looking for a drink. No sign of machines, so I wander into the pro shop where I was informed they don’t sell drinks (maybe I could try the grille room).
And it hit me… I was having a “pretty woman” moment. Disheveled looking street person wandering into a nice place trying to buy something and not getting help “I have money and no one will help me!”
I did at least find a ladies room with paper towels and cold water from the sink and made do. Runners are resourceful. And a mile later at home I chugged water, and endurolytes and ice (one cube in the sports bra, one tucked in the back of my sparkle visor) and filled my running buddy h20 and headed out for the death march of the final two miles.
My friends think i’m a happy runner. And I totally am. But I have never been so miserable on a run as I was at mile 17.5 walking ever slower up the street, practically crying, and muttering “I want to stop. I am miserable. I do not want to move another step.” followed by “Suck it up buttercup. We don’t quit when it hurts. We quit when we’re done” And there has never been a sweeter sound than the beep of my garmin at mile 18. (which was still .1 from my front door. ugh. lol)
I was a hot mess. Quite literally. And I am sending a request to the weather gods to PLEASE not let Maine Coast be this hot!
But at least on the course there will be water stops, and I won’t be something the nice townsfolk will share stories about for days
Omg…did you see that girl? Was she crazy?
No…she’s just a runner.