Pace: 12:45 avg
Dislocated toes: 0
Okay, if you haven't read TST's latest post yet, pause this one for now and read it.
Read it?
Okay, now we can all have a collective moment. If I had a purple foot and probably two broken toes, I wouldn't be describing how I was dashing off to boot camp and modifying my running so that my weight only fell on eight out of ten toes. I just wouldn't. You'd be hearing a description of how I watched all three Lord of the Rings movies, plus The Hobbit, with the actors' commentary on, while icing my toes and sipping Advil-laced cocktails.
But, as you have figured out, Gentle Reader, TST and I are made of different stuff. I'm just hoping with her that her toes heal in time for our marathon and that she also can do her training runs soon. AFTER SHE RESTS. Right, Broken-Toe-Shoes-Tina?
Turning to my own training, I managed to complete 16 on Saturday. Coach came out of Post-Ironman Slackerdom and actually ran the first six with me. It was nice to have someone to talk to for six miles. We jogged up Central to Dunlap and then turned around and returned to Bethany Home. There was a craft fair on Central, and they were blasting Elton John's "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me." I have had that song in my head for three days now. Kill me.
Elton John running wind sprints. Probably to "Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me."
After the six, I ran a mile down to AJ's, which has a very nice public restroom available after you do a weird walk through the stock room, where the employees do NOT have their public faces on, and you feel like you are definitely NOT VERY WELCOME in the stock room. But hey, sometimes a runner needs to pee. Lately I swear I could pee 900 times before the run, not have any liquid for two days, and yet a quarter mile into the run, I would need to pee. I think this is psychological, and my body is saying, hey, let's go home and sit on the couch where there is a bathroom right down the hall. This is way better than my body saying, I am going to tighten your IT bands until you cry and go sit on that comfy couch! I should put the damn couch on the street.
Mile 8 was back to Bethany, then up the bridle path again. I am getting toward the end of my Stephen King book, Doctor Sleep, and it is getting really freaking exciting. So that helped. I really don't remember much about the run except getting very excited when something terrible happened to a bad guy. I think I cheered out loud. I added a trek up and down the canal for extra mileage so that by the time I got back to the car, I'd have all 16 miles.
Happily, I didn't have any IT band-caused knee pain. I hadn't taken any ibuprofen, because I heard it isn't good for your body on the long runs, and I don't want organ failure. I mean, my liver is already overworked as it is. So I just hoped for the best, and it was pretty good. I had some tenderness on the inside of the knee, but I just stopped to stretch my quads every now and then, and it was tolerable. I also got a blister on the ball of my right foot--weird, because I've broken in my shoes. But maybe it was my socks. It's manageable.
At mile 14.5, I got a text saying I should come to a bar for beers. Well, that sounded pretty good. I texted back that I had 1.5 to go. My friends wrote back, "See you in 10 minutes." Oh, ha ha. More like 30, at the super-extra-slow trudge I had going at that point. Actually, I could predict within a few seconds how long it would take me--look at this:
Can you see that? Miles 11-15 are all within two seconds of each other. 12:48 seems to be the pace. It isn't fast, but it is consistent!
I was motivated to finish by the thought of a delicious cool beer, and managed to make it through. The last mile hurts, but it always does. Does not matter how far I'm going; my body hates the last mile. And that beer? It was delicious. And deserved.
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