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Monday, March 19, 2012

Week 6 - Rain, Rain, Go Away

Saturday morning at 6:15 a.m. I woke up, brushed my teeth, got dressed, ate one piece of whole grain toast with peanut butter and banana, and had one cup of coffee.  Then, I opened the door.   It was raining.   I knew it was raining before I opened the door, but, up until that moment, I had been in deep denial.   As I walked out the door, I said to Justin (who was barely conscious) “I don’t think I can do this today.”  

I got in my car and started driving toward my Saturday meeting spot.  It seemed as if every mile it rained just a little bit harder.  After I arrived I stood huddled with the group under a shelter while announcements were read.   Normally, I enjoy the announcements.  Not Saturday.  The longer I stood, the greater my anxiety about the run grew and the colder I became.  I wasn’t even wet yet.   Twenty minutes later we were running into a monsoon.  

Individuals training for the half marathon would be doing seven miles.   I, and others training for the full marathon, would be doing eight.   The first mile went by with much joking and frivolity.  The second mile, I realized that at some point, I might cry.   By the third mile, I was convinced that there was no way I could make it past five.   The only reason I thought I could even go five is because I was, at that point about two miles away from my car.   Other people in the group tried to remain optimistic.   I left optimism at the start line.  I was cold.   It was only mile three and my shins hurt.   My shins never hurt.  

Mile four and five went by as I ran through puddle after puddle, my shoes filling with water, squishing with every step.   Mile six and seven, I felt even colder as we began our run by the lake.   The rain was no longer falling down, it was going side ways.   It actually stung my face.  By the eighth mile the group had dwindled, the half marathoners were gone.  It was me, my pace group leader, and the team coach.  My hip was starting to hurt, my toes were numb.  But, I kept going.  About half way through the eight, my mentor came running up.  She was just checking to make sure everyone was doing okay.   With the three of them, I made it to the end of the eighth mile.  Without them, I would not have made it.   Without the team, I wouldn’t have even shown up.  

I peeled off my top two layers, and climbed into my car and drove home.  I was soaked straight through and trembling as I reached the door.   Justin and Oliver, were there waiting for me, with a towel (to make sure I didn’t get mud on the floor).  I quickly explained that I had to get in a hot shower, - now.  I gave Oliver a quick kiss and dashed for the bathroom door.   Even after I emerged from the shower I wasn’t warm.   I went though my day as usual, going out for lunch, grocery shopping, and a trip to Toys R Us, but I was still cold.  I was chilled to the core.  

It was only much later that night as Justin, Oliver, Luci (my chi-weenie) and I snuggled up on the sofa, I finally felt warm again. 

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