In which we learn that 22.8 miles is long & hard...

Continuing on in a VERY Big Pimpin' Training plan manner I trundled on out on Friday afternoon to sneak in a 22 miler.

I'm not sure if one really "sneaks in" a 22 miler, being that it takes up a big chunk of the day, requires a certain amount of strategic planning and pre hydration nonsense. We all know that my "strategic planning" consists of items such as: "Can I take cookies?" "Why is my handheld leaking and do I care?" "what is the appropriate number sunblock for my ghastly ghost pale skin? and "who will give me beer when I am done??" When I had reasonable answers to those pressing questions I headed out. 

The Route. 22.8, please take note.

Unfortunately I had a few issues from the get go which made the run less than spectacular. I still have so much trouble hydrating on the go because I get a horrible side stitch that creeps its way up into my ribs. Very distracting ans usually results in feelings of anger. My handheld was leaking like CRAZY which baffled me- but honestly wasn't the only reason that I ran out of fluids at mile 8. (I was the other culprit for drinking, duh...)

Basically around mile 8 I realized that it was NOT going to be an easy run. At this point my legs were already feeling fairly crappy- which is really, really unusual as 8 is pretty much like a rest day. Complete strugglebus, UGH!  I was afraid that an epic mental breakdown was moments away... I really sucked it up and told my brain to eff off. So I took some mental notes of amusing things that happened...

Let's review:

-Got honked at A LOT. I have decided to deal with the shenanigans and play it up by showboating. World, you are welcome for all the awesomeness that I bring to the road Ahem.

-Some guy did a wheelie on his motorcycle RIGHT IN FRONT of me going about 180 MPH. I was scared and hence, not impressed. I don't think this falls in the category of "how to impress me" anyway. How TO impress me is a story for another day.

-I helped push a broken down car out of the street. Cross training??

-Got chased by a dog. AGAIN. Not cool...

-At mile 14 sent some texts. This was a good idea. Always good to get moral support from a friend (who just happen to be in a tub of ice) to push thru the pain and agony! Win!

-Ran into Angie's house at mile 18 to get a drink. And tell her that I was hurting and possibly going to hurl. FAIL!

 And now, all together, let's take note of the fact that I am clearly violently against posting pictures of myself that are anything less than horrifying. It makes me laugh.


After putting in the final 4.8 (and did I ever hate that 0.8) I face planted in her lawn.
I. WAS. DONE! 22.8. In the books...

Despite the general agony of the day and not feeling so great AND trying to go slow my pace was still 8:30. After drinking a giant bottle of water and eating an entire sleeve of crackers I felt better.

And had a beer. Thank you.

It took a few minutes to get up.
I said the eff word VERY MANY times.
Because when prone on the lawn why wouldn't one drop righteous F-bombs?

I went home and threw on my sexiest socks.
Then put legs up a wall, then in a bucket of ice.
Because that is what cool people do on a Friday night.

I'm glad that I got another long run in and didn't expire in the process. I'm pleased that my head space didn't take a horrible turn towards "OMG I SUCK I'm GONNA DIE I HATE EVERYTHING" for more than an hour or two a minute. I'm thrilled that my fashion is fab enough to inspire many people to whoot and honk at me... And I'm glad that I didn't get run over by that tool on his motorcycle.

The End.