Sunday morning I ended up at work, instead of doing my 16-18mi planned run. It was storming so I wasn't too upset about it, but I know I would have to make it up Monday... AFTER work.
I was lucky enough to leave work a few hours early. That meant, at 3:30pm, I headed out on my longest run ever done by my lonesome (breaking last week's record of 14.25 on my own). It was overcast, and pleasantly cool, although quite humid from the morning storms. I kept expecting the skies to open up, but they didn't, thankfully.
My route took me south, out of Blue Springs, down 7hwy. There's a wide bike lane and shoulder, so it wasn't too sketchy to run on. Then, in Lake Lotawana, I made a right turn, onto Colbern. Colbern is 4 lanes across, no shoulder, no sidewalk. I ran on the side of the road for about 3.5 miles, then jumped on the path that basically appears from no where on the north side of Legacy Park in Lee's Summit. I continued down the trail as it went south along Blackburn Rd. I went past the LS Rec Center, reminding myself to stop there on the return trip to fill up the CamelPak and potty. I decided I was only doing 16, and right at the 8mi turnaround, my stomach dropped. I had to poop. NOW. In a beautiful residential neighborhood. Shit. Shit. Shit. Literally.
I started walking clenching my butt and waddling. Coach Lady told me cramping and stomach issues can be salt problems, so I was sure to pop an extra endurolyte. It seemed to help and I started running again. I got on the trail that looked to be the "shortcut" to the rec center.
WRONG.
About a half mile in the wrong direction, and exactly across from the rec center (on the other side of a LAKE!) I couldn't wait. I took about ten steps off the path into knee high grass, turned around in a cirle like a dog making bedding, and well. I pooped. It felt AMAZING.
Then I started back in the direction I came from. Again, I had to go off course to make it to the rec center, filled bottles, got the luxury of wiping, and started back.
At about mile 13, I looked down and realized I was only 10min of my best half marathon time (not including the pit stops, but including the near mile walk from 7.5-8.5). Nice. I was keeping it easy, and crusing pretty well.
Things turned around from 13-15. The sun was out and getting HOT. I was getting tired. I was running on the concrete road, and my knees were hurting. My calfs were tight. My back hurt. I was over Orange gatorade.
At mile 16 I picked up someones discarded, nearly full water bottle from the side of the rd. I poured it all over me. I maybe even drank a little. I know, but I was running out of liquids, FAST.
I took solace in knowing that my now death march stride was almost a minute faster than my death march of two years prior. I could stop and walk, but, then it would take LONGER until I got home. Eff that. I wanted home. NOW.
I finally arrived home just over 3 1/2hrs from when I left, arriving at 17.64mi. I guess the extra mile and change was the marathon god's way of saying to do the longest possible planned runs.
I streched and climbed into the ice bath, tears on my face, so happy to be done. Hubs asked why I do this to myself, and that it obviously isn't fun. I couldn't really answer him, but told him deep down I actually like it.
"You're ate up, honey." He said, as he went out the door to walk the dog.
I know, but I'm 18 miles stronger than the day before.
No comments:
Post a Comment