July 14, 2013 by Amy B
I wanted to write this post last night, but then I died. I’m posting this from beyond the grave.
Okay, so not really.
Not too many photos this time. I left way late – it takes 45 minutes to drive to the Harbor from my house and I left at 4:22 for a 5:00 start. Yes, math. I suck at it.
In fact, I was pulling into the parking lot as the runners were leaving the starting line. I pulled into the first parking spot I saw (in front of a motel, so I figured I’d have a ticket on my windshield when I got back), grabbed my belt and sprinted after the racers.
I spent the first 800 yds or so catching up to the pack, which is about the worst thing you can do when you’ve already done a hill climb and your legs are jello after sitting in a car for 45 minutes.
I honestly doubted I’d finish this race. While it isn’t as daunting with the uphills as the morning’s hill climb, it does have a steady incline at the beginning as you make your way up and up and up for what seems like forever. Fortunately, I saw a familiar face – a new friend I’d met that weekend – and we managed to trot along and talk about our families, jobs, etc. I’m certain it was the only way I made it through that race.
I was only slightly surprised that my pace was slower for this race than the hill climb. After all, I was tired from the morning, and it was twice as far. I think my Garmin wasn’t tracking satellites well on these courses (a common complaint I hear).
When we finished, my legs were completely spent. I decided to skip the awards ceremony (there was no way I was getting one and I’d already scored my free shirt) and head home to the kids.
So lessons today:
- Don’t wait until the last damn minute to leave the house for a race, because you will undoubtedly get stuck behind the vacation caravan headed up to the harbor.
- Don’t underestimate how much hills can totally wreck your legs if you haven’t been running hills (I can’t say I have)
When I got home that night, the voices inside my head were telling me there was no way in hell I was going to be able to run 25K in the morning. I even semi-seriously considered offering my bib to Scott so that he could get his weekend long run in (this race schedule has kind of fucked up his training schedule for the weekend). My hips were super sore. I started hearing Meatloaf sing in my ear, “Two out of Three Ain’t Bad.” I started to agree with him.
Scott told me to decide in the morning based on how I felt. I went to sleep that night, pretty confident that I was going to bail on the third race. I had clearly bitten off more than I could chew here. Or run, I mean.
Part III: coming up next!