I Can’t Do This Part II

So last Saturday was my last really long run (’cause apparently 16 miles is a very reasonable short run) before my marathon.  Anyway, I had to sneak it in before a long day of soccer games, football games and birthday parties.  Super awesome and normal, right?

Ridiculously early morning.  I got myself prepped and waited for twilight…but not THAT one…

But not this kind. True story...never saw the movie, read the book or had a desire. To each his/her own!

I got started in the drizzle.  Which then turned to rain.   By mile 3 all I could see was dimmed lights indicating the rest of Orange County was still sleeping and smell donuts frying.  I had no idea until that very moment that it was some sort of unwritten code that in Southern California you MUST have a donut shop at every, single, flipping, strip mall.

To get real vulnerable…I had cramps, it was cold, it was wet and I was day dreaming about the fried, fluffy folds of dough who’s smell freakishly permeated the air.  I was practically in tears – not my norm.  So I did what every sane 30 year old mother of 3 does.

I. called. my. mom.

Yep.  My mom.  Apparently I’m 5.

I whined, I complained and kept running.  Her brilliant advice: “Well you only have like 16 miles to go”.

I’m glad she didn’t use that same line when I was in labor.  “Hang in there honey, you only have 6 more centimeters to dilate.”  I would have killed her.

By mile 8 I fielded a few more phone calls (am I the only one who does that?  I call people or breathlessly answer my phone and shout, “I’m running, tell me stories!”) and was totally in my groove.  I totally rocked the last rest of my run.

Take that foot!

Lesson learned:  Even when I SO don’t want to do it, and am desperate enough to call my mommy (good night!) to get through my run, it’s worth it.  It actually ended up being a great training run.

Oh and as an added bonus.  Courtesy of wet shoes from the rain starting at miles 1-2 I found myself to be the proud owner of a 2.5 inch blister that ate up my entire arch.  Giving my water wicking socks (that I normally love) a rating of: EPIC FAIL.

19.6 miles
8:32 pace
Blistery Strides

4 thoughts on “I Can’t Do This Part II

  1. You forgot to mention that I called you back later when you had only 4 more miles to go and gave you a verbal high five!

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