Lucky 13

When, last night, Wendy told me to run 13 miles today, I had to chuckle a little. Or maybe snort. 13? Really? Not 12 or 14? Nice coach. When I set out this morning, I had decided there was no way I was going to run that unlucky number of miles. I'll do 14, I decided. And just take it very easy at the end.

Well, with the comedy of errors - or bad luck - or whatever this run ended up being...in the end 13 seemed decidedly appropriate. And while I was completely miserable for a good portion of this run, a little part of me inside was smiling. I have often had one, terrible, horrendous, problem-filled run leading up to race day. My runs had been going so well as of late (particularly my great 22-miler last weekend) I knew I was due.

It was 48 degrees when I headed out: perfect for this Northern Minnesota girl. I decided not to carry water - it was only 13 miles, it's cool, and there are water fountains every 2-3 miles on this path. No need. But I still needed to carry a small running pack as the capri tights I was wearing had no place for my inhaler. That was fine, I thought. I'll start with running gloves and then have a place to put them when my hands get hot, as the inevitably do. But when I stepped outside, it felt really warm. No need for gloves, I thought. I threw my gloves back inside the door and headed out on my way.

I got to the first water fountain about a mile in, but was not at all thirsty yet and ran right by. I'll hit the next one. About this time, though, I realized my hands were starting to feel very stiff. Damn, I thought. Why didn't I bring those gloves? I am wearing this stupid belt! There was no reason NOT to carry them. Stupid. At least my running was feeling good and easy at this point and I was enjoying the fall scene. At about the three mile marker I hit the next water fountain...I was feeling a little thirsty so decided to stop. It was dead. Awesome. Great plan, SJ.

Onward. I plugged along - my hands getting increasingly cold. It was massively uncomfortable, but ah well...nothing I could do about it. Around about the 5 mile mark my hamstrings decided to rebel. They weren't so much in they type of pain that they have been when they have been aggravated throughout this cycle - though I did run 5 Marathon Pace miles yesterday and I am sure that tired them out. But they were in pain from numbness. Not directly from the cold, I surmised, but because this pain is referred from my sciatic nerve, and when my back gets tight, my hamstrings get tight and start to hurt. They were feeling increasingly numb but, again, not directly from the cold, but numbness that felt like the cutting off of blood. I decided that what was probably happening was that my back was tighter than usual because of the cold and that was having a negative effect on my hams. If that assessment makes any sense. Whatever was going on, it sucked. It was VERY uncomfortable. Again, not like I'd re-injured them, but just like they would NOT work and were completely lacking blood flow. Even though I felt great otherwise, and my HR was exceptionally low, it was very hard to run - my legs just did not want to turn over.

Around this time, 6 miles in, I also started to feel hungry. No, not hungry - STARVING. And I have no idea why. I barely even need to fuel on a normal training run of this length. Thankfully I had grabbed an already opened, half pack of Gu chomps before heading out. When I got to 6.5, my halfway point where there was thankfully a working water fountain, I hate the near-frozen chomps, got some water, and tried to stretch. As I started to head home, however, I realized my stretching attempt was less than successful. It was gonna be a long jog.

Shortly after the turn around, and even though it was getting warmer outside, my hands all of the sudden felt VERY cold. And not just cold, numb. I couldn't make fists and there were jolts of numbness vibrating down from my arm. It was an awful feeling. I have no idea why it was happening. My fingers shouldn't have been that cold. Lots of other runners were passing me with no gloves and they seemed fine, but I was exceptionally uncomfortable. I tried my best to pull the sleeves of my tight-fighting long-sleeve running top over my hands and plugged along. Again, it was so strangely uncomfortable I just kinda had to chuckle. 13 miles Wendy? Really?

When I had about 3 miles left, I started to have to go to the bathroom. Bad. And not the kind a girl can do easily in the bushes. Thankfully, I knew there was a port-o-pottie coming up. The port-o-potties on this running route are very well maintained and are almost always clean and, even if not super clean, well stocked. I got to the john, stepped inside and, of course, there was no paper. Awesome. I promptly left and decided to forge ahead to the next one, which was about 2 miles away and a mile from my house. But I got about 15 seconds away when I realized I had no choice. I turned around, sprinted back, and used the not-so-well-maintained pottie. Again, awesome.

I forged ahead. This running route ends with a 1/2 mile long, very steep, climb. I have been very proud of the way I have pounded up this hill at the end of run after run during this training cycle. When I got there today, with 12.30 miles showing on my watch, I decided to cut my losses - and give my poor, numb, non-functioning hamstrings a break. I walked. Not because I had to...I wasn't even physically tired. I just decided it was the right thing to do. :-)

Anyway, it was quite a run. When I finished (and after I called the deli next door and ordered an everything bagel with bacon, egg, and cheese - remember, I was STARVING), I texted Wendy the following:

Awful run...exactly what I needed. :) I believe in the karma of one horrendous run this close to race day.

She replied:

Awful how?

To which I responded:

I'll blog.

Exactly two weeks from today, at 10:10am, I will start my sixth marathon.

I am ready...and I can't wait.