Let's get one thing clear: I did not want to run 16 miles today. Nope nope nope. My body was ready, but my mind was weak.
I farted around again before doing this run. I was actually dressed and ready for this run at 6:30 A.M. today. That's right-6:30. And I didn't start running until about 2:30 this afternoon.
Believe me, I had about 3 hours to think about why this happened.
Mile 0: In the house. Waiting.
I spent many many hours dressed and looking out the window. It was a rainy morning, and I knew that I should have just sucked it up and went out in the rain. Today was an unseasonably cool day with the high temps topping the low 60s, and many times I got up to go outside but found some stupid excuse not to go. One time, around noon, I even napped in my chair. What the hell did I have to be tired about?!? Sheesh. Mentally I did not want to do this run. But out the door I dragged myself in the late afternoon, with a plan to bag the run if I wasn't feeling it after 5 miles.
Mile 2: NOT INTO IT.
I decided to do a 3-mile out-and-back by my house first in case I wanted to call it quits earlier than 5 miles. Yes, it was that bad. When I was headed back toward the house, my quads were whining and I was whining and I was sweating and I was just not into it, baby. Not at all. I stopped to loosen the laces on my right shoe (no more tendinitis as a result of my own stupidity thankyouverymuch), and then kept going. I decided I would make it back to the house and reevaluate.
Mile 3: Meh. Not so bad after all.
I was feeling pretty groovy coming down the street by my house. I think it's because I slowed down and went at a pace my legs liked, considering they had been abused by a 17.5 mile bike ride yesterday. I stopped by the house to use the bathroom, because I always have to pee by mile 3 (I love that this rhymes for some reason). After tricking my bladder and being happy that I wasn't peeing outside for once, I headed back out to finish the run. I was feeling pretty good, too, until...
Mile 8: I don't want to do this anymore but I have no one to come and get me.
I was in capris and calf sleeves. I was getting warm. The sun was coming out. I was sweating. Basically, I was a whiny mess. I kept reminding myself that I was halfway done, that I only had to go out another few miles before turning around to go home, and that my legs were not as tired as my brain was. I kept on trucking. I had to, because my husband was out of town and no one else was around to come and get me.
Mile 9.69: Liko.
I was heading down my last road, ready to hit mile 10 and turn around. And then I met the massive mammal known as Liko.
I heard someone yelling off to my right, and then I saw a man running through the cornfield in front of his farm, frantically calling out "LIKO!" over and over again. I couldn't see what he was chasing or what he was calling until I looked toward the driveway...and saw a black tail poking up above the tops of the now waist-high corn.
And then Liko appeared. He is a St. Bernard/English Mastiff mix, with a nice brindle coat and a massive St. Bernard head that oozes white slobber. And he was heading right for me, barking all the way.
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| This is not Liko. But it sure is what he looked like. Only with a brindle coat and more slobber. |
I fumbled for my pepper spray. The tiny little canister didn't look like it would be any match for the canine behemoth heading toward me, but I got it out anyway and prepared for the onslaught by standing perfectly and completely still. And trying not to soil my running capris.
Liko stopped when he got to me. He barked at me. And then began to sniff and slobber all over me (he was also part crotch-hound, apparently) with his massive head. His owner caught up to us at that point, grabbing the dog and apologizing the entire time, insisting the dog was friendly.
Well, Liko didn't eat my arms off the minute he got to me, so I figured he wasn't that bad. I put my hand out to pet him (as his owner was straddling him and sitting on him like a horse), and he gave it a big slobbery kiss. After that he let me pet him, and he even tried to join me as I ran in the opposite direction.
At least next time he would know who I was. Still won't stop me from being scared you-know-whatless as that big tail and head comes around the corner and bounding down the street.
Mile 10: *Bleepitybleep*
Thank God I only have a 10K left. (Did I really think that?!?) Now only to get up this hill and to the road that leads to home...oh hello parent of a child I had in class this last school year sitting on a tractor in your farm field, how are you? Oh me? Not doing anything, really, but trying to make it home so I can shower and get all this stink off me; and you? What are you up to today?
Miles 11-15: I'm hungry.
I was hungry. Hungry hungry hungry. This was probably not the best run to limit my gel intake to try and get my body to use its fat as fuel. I was tempted to sample the field corn. Or at least gnaw on some leaves. I would have gladly eaten some snow if it were winter. It was close to dinner time. I was hungry. These miles were filled with multiple and slightly salacious thoughts of food. At least it kept my mind off how tired I was.
Mile 16: Finishing strong. I think.
I played a very motivating-to-me song on my iPod on repeat for this mile because it was the only thing stopping me from sitting down. This was my fastest mile (9:55) and my legs felt like lead. After it was over I actually left myself a half-mile cushion to walk and cool down before reaching my house. I like to do this after long runs because I think it helps with recovery. And because I'm a total and complete wimp.
I think my resistance to this run has to do with my increasing boredom with my usual running routes. Don't get me wrong; I run in some breathtaking countryside (especially when a skunk has been set off or has died in a ditch). But I think it's time for some changes. So, I have decided that, for each of my long runs, I'm going to go somewhere different to run. A trail, a new town, or even over to where I now work to run the path through town. Just SOMETHING different, something to look forward to, something to get my butt out the door and keep my mind occupied with the differentness.
A girl can only look at so many cornfields, you know. Especially when she's hungry on the run.
photo credit: Tracy Lee via photopin cc
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