The Insanity That Is A Runner

Twenty.insanity

Ridiculous.  Stupid.  Crazy.  Dreadful.

Miles 1-9.  I was rocking it.  Rocking it!  I was enjoying scenery.  You know it’s a great run when you can gander into the glorious beauty that you are running by. I was light on my feet, the pace was comfortable, the morning glorious.  I enjoyed my water and my energy beans…it was like a dream.  I was rocking it.

Mile 10.  Half way.  Time to come on home.  Right on track for time.  A smile on my face.  I love running!

Mile 11.  Still smiling.  Started talking to myself.  ‘i’m doing great.  this isn’t so bad.  my last long run was just really humid.  i can do this.  easy.’

Mile 12.  Still smiling.  I waved at a guy on a tractor who moved off the shoulder so I could keep running.  ‘what a great guy.  i’m so glad he didn’t run me over.  nice guy! great run!’

Mile 13.  Not as fast as my fastest half, but doing really, really well.  ‘this is amazing.  i love running!  this is a great, great day!’

Mile 14.  I approached an occasional store out in the middle of nowhere.  Because when you live in a tiny town and you have to run 20 miles, you end up in the middle of nowhere.  This occasional store, that’s occasionally open, was open today.  And apparently it’s a very popular occasional store.  {perhaps they should consider being more than occasionally open}  There were cars everywhere.  Cars filled with women.  No car had only one woman going to the occasional store.  Oh, no!  Two, Three, Four, Five.  They were like clown cars.  Women squashed into every inch of these SUVs and minis dumping out onto the county road blocking my path with their doors and bodies and laughing and general jovialness.  Women sure are a happy bunch in groups going to occasional stores.    I understand a crazy woman out in the middle of nowhere running is not what you’re expecting to see when you’re focused on an amazing find at the occasional store, so i’m not blaming them.  But because of the droves of women {and the one guy I saw, who didn’t seem excited at all to be there} I had to shuffle my steps and slow WAY down.  But not to worry, I thought.  After all, I have been rocking it.  And I only have 6 miles to go.  Pewwwwfwww  No worries.

Mile 15.  Bad.  Side ache.  I’ve never had a side ache before.  I drank some water and downed a gel.  I hobbled along hoping my side would improve.  ‘why does my side hurt.  if it wasn’t hurting i’d be moving along at a great clip.  ugh!  get better side!’  

Mile 16.  Side ache disappeared.  Praises!  I’ll pick up the pace and make up that lost time.  Time lost on the occasional shopper obstacle course & the side ache.  ‘it’s ok.  i’m going to be a ok.  i love to run!’

Mile 17.  all sorts of ugly has arrived.  I am now talking out loud to myself.  Loud.  Over my headphones so I can hear what I’m saying.  Loud.  Back in town.  Insanity defined.    ‘i don’t want to run anymore.  why can’t I teleport?  i want to teleport.  my DI team must develop teleportation this year.  i want to be done.’  A blister was forming at lightening speed on my left baby toe. ‘will my toes still fit in my shoe?  i think it’s going to poke out the side of my shoe.  what do you do when your toe pokes a hole through your shoe?  this is awful.  stupid blister.’ Ridiculousness.  ‘i never want to run again.  as long as i live, i will never put on running shoes again.’

Mile 18.5.  The crying begins.  Weeping really.  Ugly crying.  And I’m still talking to myself.  Loud.  In town.  With people near.  And I may have used some non-PG words.  Maybe…or not…I plead insanity.   Hot mess defined.  ‘i’m not doing it.  i am not doing the marathon.  i don’t care that i’ve done all the hard work to train, running is stupid.  i’m not doing it.  i hate running.  this is not fun.  nothing about this is fun.  nothing.  this is horrible.  i hate running.  i hate people who run.  all people who run-hate them.  i never am running again.’

Mile 19.5.  Crying ceases.  I proudly declare with definite resolution ‘i’m not doing the marathon.   i’m just not.  i’ll just say i don’t want to do it.  it’s stupid anyway. running is dumb.  i hate running.  it’s not even fun.  why do something not fun for more than 4 hours.  not doing it!‘  

Mile 20.  smile.  ‘done.  i did it.   but I’m never doing it again. running shoes are never being tied onto these feet.  ever.  running is dumb and so are runners.  so i’m not running.’

Ice bath.  Hot tea.  Lots of water.  Lots and lots of food.  Stretching.  More food. ‘never again!’  More food.  Sleep.

Wake up.  Legs feel good.  Blisters are disappearing.  Smile.  ‘i wonder if i can do better next time?  i bet i could push through without a side ache & then i’d be good.  and there will be no occasional store shoppers for the race.  i can do it.  i can.  i know it. i can’t wait for the marathon. i love running.  i love bring a runner.  running is great!  yes!  can’t wait for the marathon!’

The insanity that is the runner.

Good Run

Finished up those 8 miles soaked {i am a cheater & a liar! it was only 7.56}.  I looked like I just jumped into the river with all my clothes on.  Every step was squishy under my feet, water bubbling up between my toes.  It was a hard fought finish complete with strange looks from passerbyers, water logged everything & a bee sting.  Yes!  A bee sting.  At mile 2.   Sucks to be a runner.  Why exactly am I torturing myself this way & then taking to the screen to complain about it?  Well…

IMG_2143Twin Cities Marathon.  At the time it seemed like a challenge worth trying.  Today?  It seems stupid.  Stupid!  Who, in their right mind thinks that 26.2 miles of running will be fun?  It’s not.  Well, actually I wouldn’t know.  At this point I have no idea how it will be to go 26.2 miles.  I’ve never gone that far. {and it seems I lie about how far I do actually go-so there’s that}  But I can say with all certainty that the training leading up to those 26.2 miles is dumb.

But I’m doing it, ’cause, well, to be completely honest, I’m a list crosser-offer & I have a training plan with everything listed out & I MUST cross each & every mile off {with rounding allowances of half a mile}.  That and I paid the money to do it.  See, it gets even worse.  Not only am I planning to run 26.2 miles, I actually had to fork over cash to be tortured.  Who does this?  Who?

I know.  I know.  It will be so worth it when I finally cross that finish line on that cool autumn morning {or afternoon, realistic expectations here folks}.  But today, dripping & swollen from that darn sting, yeah, not so much.

And it worsens!  I’m sitting on the edge of a 15 mile training run this week. {rain, rain go away!}  I have never run more than 13.1. So a new distance.  yay {sarcasm dripping heavy!}  Another several hours of my life left on the pavement.  I suppose I’m a little excited to reach a new goal, to set a new record.  To hear my little purple gps watch profusely congratulate my accomplishment, {love that encouraging lil’ gadget}.  But as quickly as it’s said “way to go!”, it’ll tell me to go farther next week.  Never satisfied that purple watch is?  never.

But I am.  I am satisfied with where these little shoes take me. Around the bends of our tiny town & out the gravel roads to the barns & corn fields. It is good.  I’ve been running for over a decade now.  It began as sanity & has morphed into insanity {just kidding…or not…you decide}.  Runners’ high.  I get it & I love it.  Every time.  Even soaking wet with a swollen bee stung shoulder.  Love it.  When it’s over. {it’s true!}