Stories along the way.

The half marathon turned nine-miler.

Sometimes it’s very difficult to discern between making petty excuses and listening to common sense. 

I woke up this morning feeling SO ready to do the distance on my plan.  Week 9 of my marathon plan says “Half Marathon” for the long run.  I didn’t register for one, so I was planning to just do my own.  It was simple, do the distance, get in under 3 hours (my Austin time, and only other Half).  I felt good, I felt hydrated, I left and got going and everything was great until..  mile 4.  My back started to scream in ways I can’t explain.  All of the trail between mile 4 and mile 7 seemed to be going in a steady, very slight uphill grade.  I ran, ran, ran, stopped - grabbed my side and lower back and moaned.  I ran, walked, hobbled, cursed, and cried (not kidding) all the way to mile 7.75.  Then I stopped at the park, sat down and admitted.

This is too much for me today. 

I am not a wuss.  I do not easily or quickly surrender to pain or hard work.  I’m an ass kicker, I’m the girl who runs the distance despite the growing blisters on her heels.  I’m the girl who ignores the painful urge to just..  stop..  and keeps going.  But today the deck stacked itself against me.  And I had to make that painful decision.  Are these excuses?  Or should I really just stop? 

I made a deal with myself in the park, on that bench, with sweat dripping in a stream from the brim of my hat.  I would make it back to the car, reassess, take some nutrition, and see how the body feels.  I knew that I did not want to re-injure myself.  I had no desire to barely survive the distance and spend the rest of the week (or longer) suffering because of my stupidity..  That was at mile 7.75.  I can’t explain to you the agony of finishing mile 8.  I lapped the Garmin at 8.5 and walked for about 3 minutes.  I then turned it back on, decided to see how far it was back to the park, and walk/hobbled the rest of the last half mile. 

All I could think was..  4.1 more miles, Karen.  DO IT.  But my back went into spasms after I took the last gel and I could no longer deny what I knew at the beginning of mile 6.  I wasn’t quite well enough to handle the distance. 

I stopped and promised myself that I wouldn’t spend the day beating myself up for not doing 13.1  I have kept that promise.  A week ago, I was on my butt hurting so much I could barely imagine tying my running shoes.  Rome wasn’t built in a day. 

Every run makes you a better runner.  The hard runs make you harder.  I am glad to say I ran nine miles today and I’m still well and healthy.  So in the end, common sense wins.