18 Miles of Hunters, Animal Poop, & More Bad Running Fashion

Yesterday I topped off my third week of marathon training with an 18-mile run, my first-ever run at that distance:

The weather couldn't have been better for a winter run--temps were in the 20s, there was no wind (for once!), and the sun was out the entire time.  I got to run to places I've never been before around my house, which included finding out that there is a hunting club about 9 miles out.  Nothing like coming down the road and seeing rows of men in orange with guns coming toward you, peering into the cattails ahead of them with murderous intensity.  My inner mantra during the 8th and 9th miles was, "please don't shoot me please don't shoot me run run run."    Now you know why that 9th mile split time is juuuuust a tad bit faster than the rest.

I'm still working on my eating strategy for this type of mileage.  I want to experiment with eating something solid, but for now I usually just eat gels (PowerBar ones being my favorite) and wash those down with some water every 30 minutes or so.  I hate carrying a bottle of water in my hands, so on this run I wore my water-bottle belt.  It made me look like a total running dork but it was worth it just to not have to carry that bottle around:

Boy do I know how to put together a running outfit as if I was color blind.

Problem was, that little bottle just wasn't enough water.  I was thirsty by the end of the run--really thirsty.  In the last 2 miles, I seriously considered eating snow just to quench my thirst, but opted against it after realizing how much anonymous animal poop was located along the side of the road.  Note for next time: bring an extra water bottle and drop it off at about the halfway point.  It's not like anyone will take it out in the middle of the country where I run (unless the anonymous pooping animals scamper off with it).  

But it was also one of those runs where little itty-bitty things start irritating the crap out of you (literally!), and you have to deal with that stuff along with the fact that you are tired by mile 14 or so and are also trying to mentally urge yourself forward, valiantly resisting the urge to sit down in the middle of the road and call your husband to come get you.  Things like finding a place to use nature's facilities where no one will see you and call the cops, adjusting your clothing 3 bazillion times because it's all askew after using nature's facilities, realizing your gloves aren't cutting it and having to stop and bust out some hand warmers, trying for 5 miles to get said hand warmers in the right position in your mitten-gloves so you don't lose fingers, realizing your nose is raw from all the wiping after snot-rocketing, dealing with the fact that you are thirsty enough to eat snow....all of those things just grate on my nerves after a while.  

But I have to learn to suck it up and keep on running, which is what I did.  I have to admit that, even though I was irritated by all the little things, I was excited when I hit the 17th mile.  I was happy that I had kept on going despite all the annoyances and despite the fact that my legs were so numb from fatigue that they no longer felt like they were attached to my body.  I was rather jazzed that I was now running into mileage territory heretofore unknown to me.  We runners are weirdos like that.

But I was most happy about my decision against eating the snow along the side of the road.