No, really. Nothing to see here. Come back tomorrow and I will post a picture of some yummy food, or have a motivating life lesson or something. Promise. Today? I've got misery. And misery loves company, so be prepared.
Yesterday morning I woke up SO READY for my half marathon. Honestly, I wish I could tell you I was exhausted, or sick or something - I wasn't. I felt positive and excited. Ate breakfast. Got dressed. No internal bleeding. Just a good day, you know?
Drove up to Chattanooga - more good vibes. Packet pick up was great, thought everything was awesome and sparkly and fun. Goofy pictures were taken to commemorate what was sure to be an awesome race.
I'm not even kidding about how giddy I was. You'd think I was running this race with Santa Claus or something. Apparently even the chip timer on my shoe was exciting enough to take a picture of:
The first two miles of the race were pretty much on target - 8:53 at first and then a 9:10 because I told myself to slow down a little. Mile 3? Vomiting episode #1.
I wish I could blame what turned out to be a poor race on the several occasions where I was able to fertilize the plants on the side of the road, or the IT band that left me hobbling by the end of race, but I can't. At mile 3, I gave up. Not physically, because I kept running, albeit slower. But mentally? I was gone.
I have no doubt that I could have kept going, vomiting as I kept up the pace. The IT band was nothing a few aspirin couldn't fix. I just gave up - the worst possible thing you can do in a race.
There were tears.
There was walking.
There was an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, who kept suggesting I find the nearest place to get off the course and find a payphone to call Tim for a pick-up.
I shut the little red guy up but only one thing motivated me for 13.1 miles - the realization that when it was over, I could stop running. About 7 times during the race I swore off running forever. I'm still leaning toward that, at least until I can head to the doctor to figure out what is causing all the intestinal distress.
The final time for my half marathon was 2:17:53 - a full 18 minutes longer than I was aiming for. I hate to say there is anything wrong with that pace, because there's not. But it was the same as my full marathon pace, so obviously not indicative of my training or ability for the distance. Maybe in a few days I'll be able to put a positive spin on this experience, but not today. Today I feel sad, disappointed and angry. Disappointed that I can't run a race without vomiting, sad that I wasted great race conditions on a dud run and angry at myself for not digging deeper.
I don't know what you guys do when something is really disappointing, but I like to hide. I have avoided the computer at all costs since the race, preferring to retreat into a different world. On Friday night I started reading the first Hunger Games book. On Saturday afternoon I bought the second, and this morning the third.
I'm done all three and already bummed I have no excuses anymore - time to get back to reality again. I've eaten my weight in licorice jelly beans, avoided anything that looks or tastes remotely healthy and wallowed in pity. I know blogs are supposed to encourage you to just write "You're Beautiful" on a post-it note and change your mood instantly, but I'm giving myself the rest of the day to be miserable. Tomorrow I'll do my best to get back to normal.
Ugh. Just reading this for spelling mistakes is depressing. Not to mention self-centered. I forgot to mention that yesterday Tim ran a 5k while I did the half, and he was amazing and set a new PR of 25:28. Must have forgotten to mention that while I was trying to drum up sympathy for myself. My bad.
Have you read the Hunger Games?
I assume I'm the last person on the planet to jump on this bandwagon, but if for some reason I'm not - go read them.
Are you an inherently peppy person or do you allow yourself some time to wallow?
It's funny, because on the blog I guess I'm pretty upbeat, but in real life - I love me some wallowing. Preferably with a large container of candy and a good book or sad movie.