Now that I'm committed, and I won't give up that boy cut shirt and bling - the CB was a small 1/2 mary. It is a week before IMKS 70.3 so my total goal was to lay low and use it as a training run. It was a lot further than I was supposed to run per my training schedule and taper....but what the deuce. I want to do as many halves as I can get in this year not to mention I love challenges. I'll recover.
My friend Chester, who is running all 50 (thanks Kim, I always do that! where I get the extra 2 I don't know) states, went with me. There wasn't much chatter about running together other than "this is your run" "this is my run" we'll start together and go from there. Well, Chester runs a lot faster than I do, but he was just out to fill a weekend with a nice run. 
Starting line. It starts to sprinkle. I hear thunder. We are going to get. wet. Sprinkle. Sprinkle. Sprinkle. Rain. Dump. Dump some more. Rain. Done.
We skied through puddles, swam through marshes and pushed forward all while our feet were turning into a state of prunes. Chester hung with me at an 8:30ish pace. We are nearing mile 5. I need to take my HammerGel pack, but I also need water. Water station where are you? Here you come. It's about 6.5 miles now and I soon made a plan with self as I'm beyond the point of "just doing a training run". This is how the conversation went:Self, you are going to go for the PR. You can do this. You can do this even if it hurts. Next Sunday the pain is going to be 100x worse, so suck it up, you haven't felt nothing yet!
Self responded quite quickly and said:
Do it. {breathe} I'm doing it. {breathe} Even if it kills me. {breathe} I can always lay down and die later. {breathe} Check Garmin. Garmin checked. I'm on track. I'm going to get that PR! {breathe of excitement}
This feels good. I'm ok. I know I can hold this pace for another 2-3 miles before I want to kill myself for choosing to PR.
Mile 10 rolls around. I'm feeling the pain. Calves are tight. Knees are starting to hurt. If only I could stop and take off my tights, rub my calves, catch my breathe, drink a glass of water, hit the potty {by now I gotta go poo}, and start running again. Those darn "if only's....".
I started visualizing the country roads where I train to take my mind off the pain and of course taking my pants off. GAH! What a sight that would be.
Mile 11 is here and I yelled to Chester, the best pacer in the world right now: "We can do anything for 2 miles!" {ok, so I know this is a day in the park for him, but I had to convince myself he was feeling my pain}. My mind is back to the country roads, Jai Ho is on my iPod and I'm rolling along checkin the Garmin for pacing. We are on track.
Ok. We are at mile 12. Oh gawd. 1.1 to go. Self, we need to talk.
When you are sitting in the car when this is all over, don't look back and wish you would've pushed harder. Do it now. Get it over with and you won't have to worry about regrets. Just! Do! It!
I'm eyeing a target ahead that looks about .5 miles away. Run to the target and the next target will be the finish line.
Pace picks up. Calves are screaming "ice me" "rub me". Knees are screaming "take off those tights". Self is yelling "pick it up!" Garmin states, "your on track". Good ol' Garmin.
We are coming around the corner about .2 from the finish line and the Fun Run 1 milers were coming in and who did I see? My little man Jacob. I was soooooo excited. You could never guess how excited I was to see him run. I picked up my pace. Chester moved over and said "the finish line is yours". I got to see Jake run.
Finish line. I'm here. I'm done. Ok. Do I breathe? or do I puke?
End results:Jake took 4th out of 60. I finished with an 8:31/mile pace. A new PR and 2nd in my age group. Rock on!
