Irish people: Today was your day.

Today was my day. I am Irish.

I don't drink so the way I celebrate is by running a race.  I think my ancestors would tar and feather me for that if they knew.  But they're dead, and, if they were here, they'd probably be dead drunk, too (har!).

Because my husband wimped out and refused to come (it was 24 degrees outside and windy when we started the race), I had no official race photographer.  Below are the best I could do on my own:

Yes, I am in the bathroom.  That's where the mirrors are.  And some awesome smells.

Pro Compression Shamrock Socks completed my outfit.

I forgot to wear my tie.  I was a little upset, especially since it cost me a whole dollar at Target.

The race was cold and windy.  No matter what direction we ran, the wind was in our faces.  I planned on taking this race a little easy what with my foot still not at 100%, so my goal for the race was to practice my negative splits.  I wanted to end up at around 8 minutes per mile, so my first split was at about 8:28.  I was pacing a dude for the first 1.5 miles that was doing that pace who kept clearing his throat every 3 nanoseconds, so I started to pull away just to save what was left of my sanity.  After that, I busted out an 8:11 2nd mile, and, thanks to the fact that 0.6 miles of the 3rd mile is all downhill to the finish, I managed a 7:51 as I crossed the finish line.

Because this was not my best performance (a 25:32; last year I pulled off a 24:17) and there were about 600 people at this race, I didn't expect to place.  I just went inside the building to get warm, scope out the post-race food (bread, cole slaw and donuts.....?), and find a place to stretch and pee (not in the same spot).  I stuck around as the raffle began, but I really wanted to leave because I had 19 more miles to do--technically, I was supposed to do a 22 mile run according to my training schedule.  And leave I almost did, until they hung up the results and I saw that I had taken 1st place in my age group.  Not too shabby.

After collecting my medal, I scrambled home, threw on my hydration backpack, and took off for my 19-mile run.  My foot whined off and on for the entire run, and it was the worst in mile 11.  But, for a 19 mile run, I had some pretty good splits (for me, anyway):

The main event that happened during this run was: people.  There were people out EVERYWHERE.  People walking their dogs unleashed, people trying to find their lost doberman, people trying to find the nearest exit to I-90...it was a pretty steady parade of people in the middle of my run.   Some of these people decided to be all friendly and try and talk to me.  However, during a run, I'm not really interested in talking or stopping--I am interested in running.  It's like how I drive my husband complete and total batshit by never answering my phone on a run.  This is because the phone is there for me to call SOMEONE ELSE, not to answer it and have a chit-chat while trying to make it through mile 15.  I just want to run, dammit, and run uninterrupted.

But some of these people I met on the run were driving cars and stopping to talk to me.  Now, I don't know about you, but when I am a female and running alone (which is often), I don't like it when people stop their cars, get out of their cars, and then try and walk up to me.  I tend to back away and get out my pepper spray, which causes them to look very concerned.  All I know is that if they grab my backpack, they can probably get me to their car before my uncoordinated ass unbuckles the clasps on the front of my body, so I don't want these car-driving-getting-out-of-cars people anywhere near me.  At least the last 5 miles of the run were people-free; it left me some time to concentrate on my foot and obsess over whether I was getting a stress fracture or had a synovial cyst of some kind along the length of my extensor tendon.

Speaking of the foot, it's a little sore now; I iced it immediately afterwards and took some ibuprofen.  And then I went to Red Robin and had a pretty damn good burger at my husband's nephew's birthday party.  Hey, I know how to eat for recovery baby, and recover is what I intend to do tomorrow with my cross-training day.  I'll let you know what I choose to do to screw up my foot further for cross-training in tomorrow's post.