Okay...so I have to admit. My goal of blogging to remember every little thing that happens as my life flashes by in such a blur has already been a miserable failure. Rather than give up I have decided to adjust my goal and dig in for the long haul. Since I recently went back to grad school - again - I think to myself for a minute about how dumb this idea is. As though I really need to be writing any more considering the numerous assignments I am doing each week. But my heart says press on, so my fingers must oblige.
Since my last entry I completed the much anticipated and often dreaded Athens Half-Marathon. Longest. Day. Ever. I forced myself to sleep by watching the episode of Heavy with the guy from Athens who runs in the Half after losing like 150 pounds. In my training I only lost like two pounds, so I assume I have done something wrong. And then I remember that I forgot to train. Guess that was my problem.
Anyhow, I arrive with Mallory and Anthony, wait in line to use a potty, and enter my cow pen in a group that was obviously not for me. Next year I buy my own race number rather than save a few bucks by picking up one on sale. That girl had aspirations of serious success. I merely wanted to finish without going into muscle failure. Just as I began to think of ways to sneak off and pretend I broke something we began to run. Pure adrenaline push me through the first 5k before I walk long enough to grab and drink and get moving. This first section is all through campus so I find landmarks and push on, running at a pace I never thought possible.
I hit Five Points at exactly 50 minutes...I've managed to average 10 minute miles on raceday. Not too shabby considering the weeks of sleep deprivation at the will of my toddler. Some nights I swear she does it on purpose, or that she hates me. Truly the problem is she loves me too much and thinks I am her massive teddy bear that exists solely to comfort her. And she's right. But I digress.
Milledge Avenue is a long, boring road that makes me wish I had a few of the characters who are lining the street cheering for me. Really wish I had assembled a cheering section in strategic places like this to help keep me going. So I change my name to whatever these folks are yelling and press on, turning on to the best block party I ever ran through. Thank you so much to all those folks who put up signs of encouragement, like "No one made you do this" or "Yes,dear, I'll cook dinner tonight." The best was the "You have no one to blame but yourself." Secretly I wanted to blame Mal or my dad, but I knew the sign maker was right...and probably not running the race today. Smart.
Leaving that neighborhood was truly a sad moment, made even more depressing as the next few miles wound through less inviting areas. Even the famed Boulevard area was nothing compared to Cobbham and I hated every step until I finally saw the 10 mile marker! Hooray! Only 5k to go...if I can keep out of muscle failure I have got this thing in the bag. By the time we hit the Greenway I realize that some race course making schmuck ran out of real estate so he decided to make us loop this stupid area and then run straight up the Hill of Death to the finish. How lame is it to run 12 miles, be so close to the finish, and then literally run straight uphill for the final mile until a downhill .1 finish line. I never even heard the name of the girl whose number I had purchased. I only saw the 2:42 and couldn't believe that I actually finished in under my goal time.
Days later my big toe stayed swollen and eventually turned an awesome shade of black before the nail fell off. So now I am in two pretty elite groups. I am a half marathon finisher and a distance runner who fell victim to the dreaded black toenail. Next year I have two goals: finish somewhere near that guy with the 2:10 sign and to keep all of my toenails. Stay tuned for that I guess...I might remember to blog about it.
