A week ago today, exactly. In fact, at this time last week, I was hitting the lowest of my 20 mile low points. When I got home, I wrote about it. I'm pretty...uh...honest here. Don't think I'm a wimp, okay?
What It Feels Like to Run 20 Miles:
My day started at 3:45 a.m. I hopped right out of bed, made coffee and peanut butter toast, and checked my blogs. Kevin got up at 4:10. We changed and met Kelly at 5.
We started running right at sunrise. It was, for the most part, a gorgeous morning. Chicago was looking fabulous.
We started out north on the Lakeshore Trail, ran from Belmont to Hollywood, turned around, and headed south, still on the trail. (We saw a COYOTE just south of Belmont Harbor!) The first 2 miles were good. 3-8 were my sweet spot, as usual. 9 and 10 were solid. Kelly and I commented on how easy it felt and how it was building our confidence for the REAL DEAL. Miles 11 and 12 were fine. We made it just beyond Adler Planetarium, turning around at exactly 13.6 miles. I was okay up to this point, although I felt a lot of pain coming from the general direction of my left foot every time we’d start up again after stopping for a quick stretch, drink, or bathroom break. I’ve found it’s better to lull my limbs into numbness. Stopping and starting just reminds them they don’t want to be running, I think.
I began the 6.4 miles back optimistically. “Just run home!” I told Kelly and Kevin. Seemed simple enough. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving - that’s all you have to do.
By the way, our pace was really solid through all of this - like a 10:40 or 10:50/mile pace which is right where we want to be. And Kelly, Kevin, and I had no problems sticking together until the very end when Kelly broke off to stretch her hips and finish up on her own. No worries there.
So anyway, we headed home. And this is when it got rough. I had three “low points,” which I will shamelessly share with you.
Low point #1 was around mile 16 when we had to stop for traffic at Navy Pier. I doubled over and half started crying. It just hurt. And I was so, so tired. I wanted to curl up in a ball right there on the sidewalk.
Low point #2 came about a mile later. Again, pain. A lot of it. I was handling it until I realized we were at mile 17 and while that meant only 3 more miles today, if it were the actual marathon I would still have 9 MORE MILES TO GO. That kind of thinking always gets me - stressing about what I have to do another day. Ignoring Kelly’s advice to “do today’s run” and don’t worry about the future. So again, I started to cry, but I quickly stopped because I realized a few weeks ago that the gasping that tends to accompany my marathon training tears does not make running easier. Not even a little - can you imagine?
Low point #3 came about 18 miles in, 2 from the end. You’d think I’d have seen the light at the end of the tunnel at this point, but no. My legs hurt. My stomach felt queasy. A strong wind was in my face. I just got to a point where I felt kind of desperate - that’s the best way to describe it. I told Kevin I had to slow down but then I didn’t. I half cried a little. Again. (This is all super cool when you’re on the busy Lakeshore Trail at 8 a.m., by the way.) I yelled “I can’t do this!” at one point. I remember trying to cope by singing the refrain of Katy Perry’s “Firework” to myself. (Soooo dorky. And to make it worse, I planned that ahead of time.) I also remember thinking, “Can’t, Can’t, Can’t,” with each stride and making myself switch to “Can. Can. Can.” instead.
Anyway.
I pulled myself together each time. Or at least kept going, as undignified as I may have looked. I’d say I’m embarrassed, but I’m just going to let that go. Running is hard, and I don’t want to apologize for pushing myself to the brink of my physical limitations.
When we hit mile 19, I started counting my strides. If I get to 100, I know from past experience that roughly a tenth of a mile will have passed when I look back at my watch. So I counted to 100. Then 200. Then 200 again. Then I just started obsessively checking my Garmin every few seconds. At 19.98 miles, I held my wrist in the air so Kevin could hear the final beep. When it sounded, I collapsed onto the grass, legs and arms stretched out - so unbelievably tired and so unbelievably happy. I laid there in the sunshine for a long time, then stretched a little, and before too long Kelly (smiling!) came around the bend. We cheered her toward the finish line, she gave me a high five, and we all walked home. (Which was a painful ordeal in and of itself.)
And then…
An ice bath. A hot shower. The special after-running lotion I bought myself as a treat. EATING WHATEVER I WANTED FOR THE REST OF THE DAY (potato pancakes eggs benedict was my brunch choice). Lots of water. A nap. A celebratory dinner and drinks at a place called Big Jones (love it).
And now it's done. The hardest run in our training program. We're down to 12 miles this Saturday, 8 after that. And then the marathon. Heaven help me.
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