The last long run before race day is complete.
It's two miles short of what I was supposed to do, and it was the craziest roller coaster ride I have ever been on.
I ran with Mike, as he has been a rock star and improved his running time by roughly 3 minutes per mile in the last two weeks. So it was a great help to have him for company and for motivation. Unfortunately, he probably is not as happy he had me for a running partner Sunday.
I started off in that "I really don't feel like doing this" mood. So I told Mike I would run behind him and I was able to block out the negative thoughts and just concentrate on the rhythm of his feet and match my pace with his....left...right....left....right. That got me through the first ten miles with a stop here and there for a drink, or a Gu, or a trip to the natural bathroom that the woods so generously provide. My knees were hurting, my neck was tight, and I was complaining a little.
The next three miles I started to break out of the funk, and felt pretty good. I took the lead, and we came to a fork in the road. Following the road straight would have gotten us home faster, but our 18 mile course demanded that we turn right. Mentally, I took another turn, and started down a frightful path. It started to rain, my whole body was aching, 15 miles in and I had no idea where we were. I knew I was looking for a stop sign, but every time I cleared a hill and saw open road, there was no stop sign. I thought maybe we mapped the route wrong and started thinking about calling someone to come pick me up. I thought I was hurting so badly that I would never make it back home if the stop sign wasn't even within eyshot yet. Then I got mad at Mike thinking that it was his fault that we didn't take the stupid shortcut at the fork in the road when we could have. Then I screamed out with gusto, "Where the &*^% is this f*#&ing stop sign? Where the %$# are we?!?!?" It was a complete meltdown. If I had any energy left, I would have cried.
Well, once I got it together, the stop sign appeared and I recovered, knowing I only had two miles to go. I was hurting, but I got into a rhythm behind Mike again, and was able to push out the hill at the end of that ridiculous run.
I'm hoping that the crowds and the scenery will sooth the rage in me when I hit those tough moments in the race. And I hope Mike is mentally strong enough for both of us, the way he was this past Sunday.
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Hi Tom,
ReplyDeleteBeen there. . . done that. It happens to all of us. One of my favorite mental tricks is to throw an imaginary rubber band around someone ahead of me, put it around my waist and have them "pull" me along.
Also, when I was training in 2001, one of our long runs (18 miles I think) was in the rain. The whole run was in the rain. I got home and didn't want to shower because I was tired of being rained on.
I have a friend whose sister ran Paris. It rained the whole time. He said she didn't care because it was so beautiful. It is going to be fabulous!
Smile. Know you got through it. T -9 or 10 days. :-)