Let me tell you about my personality. I am recovering type A. And although I can be laid back about many things, I am also a driver in personality. Realtors hate it when I walk in a house, because I leave the tour, assess things quickly, and can know if I am interested in a home in the first 30 seconds. I can walk in and out in 2 minutes, if I don't check myself before being rude. I have a tendency to say things before I think about them. And I'm strong willed. None of these traits make me a bad person. But I have to remind myself sometimes to be quiet. Or still. Or listen.
So to think there's a friend out there that can tell me what to do and I just do it? Seems impossible. I'm the boss! Usually.
So this weekend I had 10 miles to run in my training. And "little B" as our friend Glen calls her, says to me:
Kim! I can't run with you that weekend. I'm running a full. But since you already have 10 miles, you should run the half!! Just think of it as a training run! Run your ten miles and then walk in the last three!
I hemhawed around but the more she said it, the more I bought in. And just like that, I was signed up to run a half, IN TRAINING FOR MY UPCOMING HALF. Am I crazy?!?!
So what did I do?? I enlisted my friend Shawn to come with me!! So here we were, in the dark of morning, freezing our tails off, getting ready to run our "training run" at the HITS half marathon yesterday.
Well, it went well. When I was about 3 miles in I started to actually FEAR, for the first time ever, that I had NO ONE left behind me in this race. Thank God, when I asked a policewoman I passed if there was anyone back there, she laughed and said yes.
So anyway, I felt strong for 6 miles, when my Garmin started to DIE. And it even went well for 9 miles. But once I hit this:
I was mentally OUT. I knew I was done! I had finished 10 miles in 1:54. I was on a good pace. But I'm still in the midst of training and I wasn't prepared to run the last 3 miles ahead of me. So I did what any good runner would do, unless they are an elite athlete or one of my running friends: Brenda, Glen, or Kenny. I popped a Gu. I knew I wasn't running, but I also knew I was out of gas. Mentally and physically.
I made it two more miles before I hit the last water station. There, the sweet high school boy who handed me water said, "It's all down hill from here! Really! You're almost done!"
OK, by now, I've already cried (at mile 9 1/2), and begged Jesus to carry my legs, meanwhile closing my windpipe and almost being unable to breathe. Which almost sent me into a panic attack.
So when I heard his words, I was delirious. I took him literally and could not have been more thankful because the hills on this course were BRUTAL at the beginning. I crested the road ahead of me and looked out to see this:
THE BIGGEST ROLLING HILLS I HAVE EVER SEEN.
So I did what any self respecting person would do at this point, when their legs are shot and their mind is on the edge of sanity. I LAUGHED. It started small but it grew. And I couldn't stop myself. I was belly laughing all alone on this street! And I'm pretty sure if the first aid station had been in earshot they would have come running to get me, the crazy lady, off the course: FAST.
But alas, by now, I'm pretty sure THERE WAS NOBODY LEFT ON THE COURSE BUT ME.
So I walked it in. No more running. I gave up the hope and I walked. Until I was about 2/10th of a mile from the finish, and then I got up on my running legs and ran. Just so I didn't look like a LOSER walking across the finish line.
And then I heard my name on the loud speaker and my friend Shawn was there yelling for me.
I got my medal, and took my frozen butt home. To thaw out and rest my weary body. Thank you Brenda, for your splendid idea. ;)