This weekend, I hit a personal record in terms of distance running. On Saturday, I got up at the crack of dawn (6:00) to begin my pre-run ritual in anticipation of a 7:00 am run. The goal - 10 miles. Injury free.
Unfortunately, the kids decided to wake up early too, so I spent my hour making breakfast, unloading the dishwasher, making coffee - all the mundane banalities I like to forget about while I run.
At 7:00, I hit the road - off to meet my partner in crime - Nataliya. I can't tell if she likes running as much as I do. I suspect not; but if there's anyone who can help keep me motivated for two hours of running, it's her.
Two hours and five minutes later, according to my Garmin, we were done.
The first mile is the hardest.
The second mile kinda sucks too, and you can't help but start groaning when your Garmin beeps and you realize you've only gone two miles.
Mile three - I find myself thinking, "Ok, this is about a 5K. This is what I was training for last year, and now... wow. Three miles is a light day."
Mile four - this is about where I hit the numb phase. After this, I don't feel anything anymore. You may recall, a few weeks ago when my knee met the road and became roadkill, I was hitting mile four. I kept going because.. well, I was numb.
Five and six.. a blur. Except for this annoying thing that I've started noticing when I do longer distances. It's not pretty. Suffice it to say my colon is not happy. And why do we always have to run into the dynamic duo set of moms that seem to always be running when we are? They're always decked out in cutesy running outfits, and they collectively weigh as much as my right thigh, and they are running at 7 minute mile clip, and chatting the whole time.
Once we hit seven, I just knew. I knew I would do ten miles and nothing would stop me. Once you've hit seven, you're just a 5K away from double digits.
We kept at it. We finished running through town, passing a few people we knew. The sun was stronger now in the sky and I was sweating. People were out and about. I could start to feel a dull ache in my knees. No way was I quitting. Not now.
And we did it. We ran it. The whole thing. Ten miles.
When I walked up the stairs to get back into the house, I thought, "Now, I feel like a runner."
Look out Boulder-Boulder 10K. Here I come.
Warning.. grossout ahead...
And for posterity's sake. Here's the knee. The only thing I have to say is that my knee is living proof, in microcosm form, of the many indignities and hardships that women are forced to endure. Take a close look.
There is HAIR still growing out of that six inch thick SCAB!!! Hair!! This is the battle that women face constantly in our pathetic, never-ending quest to obtain smooth legs. If frickin hair can grow though a six inch thick scab, attaining smooth legs is just a pipe dream.