Sunday, April 25, 2010

Marathon- The Actual Event


Dang I'm sore. Not sore like I was after Disney (mostly because they gave me so much medication, painkiller, and IV fluid at the hospital after that little excursion that certainly some of the soreness was squashed). Not sore like I was after the Rock N Roll Half (because who can really be sore after a leisurely 13.1 mile stroll?) Sore like someone hit me with a truck at high speed… and possibly backed up to run over me again just to make sure I wouldn’t get up to chase them down.

Admittedly, I couldn’t chase a person down, much less a truck… or possibly even a toddler. I’m slow, but happy.

At the start I buddied up with Orgazmo (whose bib said Choda Boy) and Poncho. Orgazmo (who swears if I see the movie, I will understand him entirely) lives in DC, but is from the city originally. He has done ultra marathons, off-road triathlons, and a whole mess of other fun sounding things. He had flown down from DC, to run with his friend from OSU, Poncho. Poncho was originally from Wichita but has lived in OKC for a handful of years. He was wearing… a poncho. Was it raining? Nope. But he was cold, so he threw on a poncho for heat. Who am I to argue with warmth in any form? Besides, there's no telling what he had on under that poncho.

As we meandered for the first few miles, never breaking a 15 mile walk, I wondered why I was so compelled to stay with them. I guess it was because I was lonely and it was dark. I missed the goddess. She’s my event buddy and her absence was taking a toll. No worries though, at only mile 6, Poncho announces that he is having “tummy trouble”. Wow… pretty early to be having these sorts of issues. I bid them farewell and picked up the pace.

Things are going well. I’ve broken one of the course rules (although I’m guessing it was more of a suggestion) and I’m listening to my iPod. Whoa black Betty… bam-a-lam.

I make a new friend and stick with her for a bit. It’s her first long event ever. Her husband is still in bed, but the kids are with their grandparents getting ready for the kids’ run. She’s fun but I realize she’s piddling along at a 16.5 minute mile. I thank her for the company, put my headphones back in, and skip along. Ain’t no tellin’ where the wind might blow, free and easy down the road I go.

Mile 14. Brrr… Dang you Lake Hefner. Why are you always spitting off cold air with the force of a tornado? No worries. I feel good. I launch a preemptive strike on my lungs and the non-welcome party they are considering throwing for all the cold air and trees around the lake. *puff* *puff* Now with the wind at my back, I’m actually… wait for it… wait for it… running. Shocking to everyone who knows me. I’m pretty sure I am reincarnated from an 80 year old mall walker. But as I said earlier… I'm slow, but happy. With so much drama in the l-b-c, it’s kinda hard being an asthmatic athlete.

Well, hello fat man in the track suit! What brings you to the lake today? Just watching the runners go by? Encouraging them as they go by? No? Oh! I see you came to insult us. Gee. Glad you could make it out. It’s always nice to see a man with a 42 inch waist muffining out of a 30 inch track suit bottom. Classy.

Mile 20= half way, because 6.2 seems like an eternity. I’m pretty sure at this point that I have a blister growing with such enthusiasm that it’s going to burst from all its excitement later tonight. There is no way I’m stopping to take off my shoe though. We all know that I have issues with feet and wouldn’t likely put my shoe back on once removed to reveal whatever was causing me pain. My style is di bom digi bom di deng di deng digigi…

Mile 20.1… am I there yet? No? Bummer.

Mile 20.2… am I there yet? Still no? Bummer.

Mile 20.3… am I there yet? Really? Not even 23? Bummer.

Mile 20.4… am I there yet? You must be joking…

Mile 20.5… am I there yet? Mind if I sit down with you for a bit? No thanks, I don’t think my stomach could take any food right now. Yep, those people are running fast. I’m impressed too.

Somewhere along the next few miles I actually settle in to spot of dead air. No thoughts are entering or exiting my information station. White noise perhaps, but nothing of consequence. I feel great. I’m ignoring the horrible pain in foot. I couldn’t be happier with how- HOLYCRAPIDOODLEBEEFEATERMONKEYFACE!

Anyone ever popped a quarter-sized blister on the ball of their foot while running? It feels awesome… like love in your shoe. Sweet sweet love… wrapped in a pink bow… from Satan.

While hobbling across the finish line nearly 4 miles later, all I could think about was buying new shoes because this pair was soaking in whatever juicy goodness comes of a blister. No way can I wear these again. Besides, they clearly need replaced or I wouldn’t have the blister. New shoes? Totally justified.

Medical tent? Yes, but just for a Band-Aid.

Finishers medal? Heck yes!

Green finisher tech shirt? Double heck yes!

Cheese covered pasta and bread for lunch? I’ll race you to it.

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1 comments:

Sarah said...

awesome! way to go Lacey!!! Great perspective and perseverance sista!