I did it! Triple digies! One hundred days of running. One. Zero. Zero. And what better way to mark the occasion than 8 miles?
Last night, I was setting my alarm clock for 6:45 when Mr. T asked me what I was doing. He was all, “I can watch T Junior while you run.” And I was all, “Sweeeeeet,” and reset the clock for 7:30 because I don’t like to sleep past then.
So, I had breakfast like normal and watched CBS Sunday Morning, made T Junior his meal and relaxed. By 9:30, though, I knew I had to get ready. The weather man warned me that the rain would come later in the day, so I didn’t want to wait around to see that.
I mapped out a new run because I am so over running in my neighborhood. But by the time I’d mapped out 8 miles, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to remember where I was going once I was out there. I know the roads, but was worried I’d forget where my turn-around points were or what cul-de-sac I was going to take or skip. So I wrote it down on a sticky note.
Then I got dressed: Brooks tights, REI shirt, and New Balance shoes. I tucked my Zune in the handy shirt pocket along with my route directions and I zipped my phone into my back pocket. Then I remembered I was going to make a PB&J for fuel. This is an idea I am borrowing from ChicRunner. I figured I would only need 1/4 of a sandwich. I made a half and then cut it. I put my PB&J square in a Ziploc bag, squished all the air out and then folded it up and crammed it in my rear pocket with my phone.
Oh yeah, that looked awesome. I had a huge rectangular growth on my bum. I felt like George in that Seinfeld episode. The one where he keeps all of his receipts in his wallet and it gets so big that he can’t even sit straight. He tilts to one side and starts to get back problems. What writer thought of that anyway? So funny! Anyway, I really need to get a fuel belt.
Next, I made Mr. T take my picture. You know, in case I didn’t come back. In case I collapsed somewhere and they need an accurate description of the victim. Okay, okay. That’s not why. I made him take it for Mom vs. Marathon.
Okay. So there I am. A full body shot. I’m channeling the red carpet here, trying to strike a flattering pose I’ve seen celebs use. (I’ve definitely lost inches since I started running back on July 18, but I just checked: I’m down only 7.4 pounds since then. Dude.)
And, yes, I wore a headband again. Yes, it was annoying. I had to replace it like 10 times, but I thought a baseball hat would be too itchy.
After many, many trips to the bathroom (I was a little nervous), I was out the door around 10 a.m. I forgot to check the exact time, but it was right around there.
The running was normal. At about 1.5 miles, I had to check my directions. At 3 miles, I was feeling good and strategizing where I should eat my sandwich. I needed to do it near a trash can because I didn’t want to have to put the baggy back in my pocket. (By the way, that little piece of sandwich along with my phone weighed my pants down a little bit in the back. I had to tug them up several times, so I was relieved when I was finally rid of it.)
I ended up removing the sandwich and tossing the bag in a garbage can right before I hit four miles, where I joined the trail. So, when I mapped out my run this morning, I purposely put the second half of my route on the trail. On last weekend’s 7-miler, the last couple of miles hurt my knees, ankles and hips. I hoped the softer turf of the trail would be easier on my joints.
The trail. I have a love-hate relationship with it. I’m afraid of wild creatures or bad guys jumping out from the trees, but I love the beauty and peacefulness of it. I actually felt myself relax when I turned onto the dirt pathway. I even updated my Facebook status at 10:58: “half way done. 4 miles 2 go! (txting while running!)”
I took a picture around Mile 6.
I also checked the time: 11:21. I gave myself a goal: finish by 11:40. I picked up my pace. Then I noticed I was thirsty. Damn. If I had a fuel belt, I would NOT be thirsty. (Can’t do handhelds, by the way. Especially when it is chilly like today and used my shirt’s mittens for the first couple of miles.) I got a little worried about being thirsty because I know if you feel thirsty, then you are already dehydrated.
I figured I was almost done, though, and I would be okay (besides Mr. T had taken that handy picture of me).
I definitely had been running too easy before. I huffed and puffed in a controlled manner, of course, and made my way to my finish line, which was back where I joined the trail in the first place. And guess what?! I made my goal. Exactly. At 11:40, I updated Facebook again: “Done!” Now, I can’t be sure about my splits, but I think I did the second 4 miles a lot faster than the first 4.
Here I am. Done with EIGHT miles and 100 days of running in the books…or maybe I should say, blog.
EPILOGUE: Yep. I look tired. I hurt, too. The last two miles, my right ankle was really sore but I did notice it eased a bit when I lengthened my stride in the home stretch. My hips and knees felt fine while I ran. But when I stopped, all my joints were hurting. I forgot to take Ibuprofin before I left the house, but I really think it was because I needed to be drinking water during my run. I walked and jogged as a cool down. When I got home, I ate the leftover piece of PB&J and drank a glass of water with two pain pills. I was about to start stretching when I got really cold. I changed out of my sweaty clothes and into a pair of lounging pants and a sweatshirt. Better. I also had another glass of water. Then me and T Junior stretched. Any achiness I had went away after that.