oops. Ok, so I’m a wee bit late with these recaps. I’m not sure why, maybe laziness mostly. After THE HALF (as I thought of it), I was a little too overwhelmed and emotional to get my thoughts out. You would’ve thought I walked on the moon. As for TriKW, it was a combo of (once again) being disappointed and just being too busy (lazy) to write about it. Even now I’m like a little kid: “I don’t wanna!!” but must talk about these races to move on to 2015!
BAA Half Marathon October 12, 2014
This was the 3rd race in the BAA Distance Medley. I did the 5k in April and the 10k in June. This was the final and of course most difficult. I am not a runner. I wish I were though. So that’s why I continue to torture myself with it. And others who listen to me bitch about it. I was filled with trepidation and excitement for THE HALF. Trepidation because I was most certainly ill prepared to run 13.1 miles. I mean, I trained, I swear! I just still sucked at it. Excitement because I’d be done with distance running (hobbling) FOREVER. ok, probably not. I woke up race morning with a super sore throat and a swollen knee. SCORE! LET’S RACE! It was also pretty cold for someone that trained in 80 degree plus weather. It was about 40 degrees and I so wasn’t ready for that. So with all that baggage, I headed into Boston. It really was a beautiful fall day. Sunny, clear skies, changing leaves, the whole deal. Gorge. Race started and I felt AWFUL. Start time was fast approaching and I, along with dozens of others, were still in line at the Port a potties. sweet. The race started and there we all were, still at the Port a Potties. Oh well, we jokingly referred to our start as we walked over as the “Official Port a Potty” start. Off we went and I quickly resumed my post as “last”. My sweeper for this race was a wonderful man who took one look at me and asked me “why are you doing this?”. gee, thanks dude. For the first 2 miles, he followed me on his bike and pretty much verbalized every single doubt that plagued me. I finally told him I’d decide by mile 3 and he, thankfully, took off. Once he was gone, I could assess the situation. I was walking more than running, I was FREEZING cold, my knee was killing me. I was DONE. The devil on his bicycle came back. I told him I was going to cut across the next road and head back about mile 3. I figured I could make it a 10k and slink home with my tail between my frozen legs. I go past mile 3 and about halfway to mile 4 I can see people on the other side of the road so I cut down and I’m feeling relieved. The enormous pressure I put on myself about THE HALF was DONE. I was a quitter, but didn’t really care. I came out onto the course with a whole lot of runners. Hey! the bulk of the pack!! Never thought I’d ever see them. I had a brief moment where I thought people would yell “CHEATER!!” at me but nobody cared. I wouldn’t accept a medal at the finish, I’d be happy with the 10k. Well, funny thing about Boston. It’s very very different than Florida. Florida is flat and everything is pretty much in a grid (or more of a grid than Boston). All the races are out and back. Yeah, not so much in Colonial Boston. I looked at the next sign and it was Mile 6. Yup. Mile 6. I cut out all of 2 miles. I am a moron. “OH F#*K” was the first thought I had. The second was “ok, F#* it, I guess this is happening”. And off I went. weirdly, I was able to run longer and further than ever. I thought I’d end up about 11 miles total but there was a 2 mile out and back that I decided to do twice to get to 13.2. My pace was great (for me). and on the out and back I saw that jackhole on a bike with the new Last person and I felt so bad for her!!! I kept running and running. It was the weirdest thing ever. I saw my parents with about half a mile to go (they were at what they thought was the finish line lol) and as I entered the track for the final stretch I couldn’t believe it! I was actually running and was going to finish a Half Marathon. A couple of friends were so cool and were at the finish cheering me on. I crossed the finish and promptly burst into tears. I had done it. I looked at my watch to be certain. It read 13.6. Yup. After quitting the race I managed to run further than I needed to. oopsy. Needless to say, I had no moral issue accepting my medal. I earned it. I ran slow and my final time was 3:10. Which is not the greatest time ever but whatevs. I did it. And that was the only goal I had.
And then I fell apart a bit. Had a ton of trouble walking the next few days as most people do. When I got back home, I had to continue training for my next race, TriKW. And I was just sick to freakin’ death of training. I was hurt and whiny and just sick of the whole thing. I half heartedly completed training for TriKW and my lack of effort showed. I had a decent swim, the bike sucked. (what the F was that turnaround?) and the run, well, the run went as well as it usually did. Had fun after though. That’s where I really shine. Burgers and Beers time is my time.
After TriKW I just took time off from training. Did the barest minimum. I needed a break mentally and physically. I had been training hard for a solid year and was just sick of the whole thing. 2014 was pretty productive though. I completed 6 Triathlons (4 Sprints, a Classic and a Mini), 10K and a Half Marathon.
Well, it’s been about 6 weeks that I’ve taken off. Kind of an accident. Had a work injury and then got sick and then and then excuse excuse excuse. I’m back now though! have planned and signed up for some races and I’m (mostly) excited to get back out there. any trepidation I feel is mostly just fear. Fear that I’ll never be good, fear that I’ve lost too much ground to make up, fear that I’ll never be as remotely good as my other Tri friends and fear that the elastic on my tri shorts will give out at an inopportune time. But whatevs, what else do I have to do this year?