What I Learned in 18 Miles

  • Even if your favorite shorts didn't chafe when you ran 16 miles in them, use some anti-chafe stuff, anyway. Better safe than open stinging wounds in the shower.
  • 84 degrees F and 90% humidity forces a person to slow way down... or puke... or faint. It's really up to each individual.
  • If your body tries to start crying in the last mile but can't produce any tears because you're so dehydrated, stop at the medical tent when you finish.
  • If you normally sweat heavily after finishing but aren't sweating at all in 84F, stop at the medical tent.
  • If you would usually seek food immediately after a run but completely forget it's even an option when you cross the line, stop at the medical tent.
  • There's a trend here... I should have stopped at the medical tent. Unfortunately, I didn't make that determination until 3 hours later, while doing a race rehash with my mother.
  • Take pictures of fun things even if they will be blurry because you don't want to stop running - it will help you remember you DID have fun.
  • If you schedule any extra days off around the race that aren't planned for travel, make sure at least one of them is the day after the race. Driving for 7 hours after running 18 hard miles is NOT ideal.

9 comments:

Ali K. said...

Amen, sister.

Abigail said...

18 miles. Gulp.
Congratulations to you! It sounds like it was a killer race, and the fact that you finished it in spite of all the factors pushing you to just lay your body down and die means you DESERVE that medal. 18 miles. Golly.

I read your comment on my blog from, oh, weeks ago, and give a delayed response. John has indeed started running (!), but he doesn't like much talk or fuss about it, though I do both when others aren't around to hear. I was shocked when he started, and I continue to be inspired and impressed by what he's accomplishing on our hilly country roads.

My goals? They were to run a 5k in under 25 minutes, to run a 10 k for the first time ever, and to whittle my time on that down to under an hour by the time the snow arrives. I haven't been running as regularly as I was at the beginning of the summer, what with gardening and canning in full swing and homeschooling approaching again, but last night, I dragged my butt out there determined to just run 10k already, and I found I only have 21 seconds to shave off to reach my goal. I guess I had underestimated how I'd do. Getting in a 5k under 25 minutes is another matter entirely, though, as I haven't run one for speed in about 2 weeks and just run at impromptu times on whatever days I fit it in.

I love to read about the ups and downs of your running experiences, and the decision to soldier on some days and just enjoy it other days. It's interesting to read about the experiences of real runners such as yourself and to peek over your shoulder. Keep it up!

Kate said...

Abigail, thank you very much for thinking I'm a "real runner" and for your encouragement. You're one, too, you know, since you run and all.

Breaking 30 in a 5k is my loftiest speed goal at the moment, so I am impressed by your gumption to set yourself to achieving sub-25. If you're almost at sub-60 for a 10k, I bet you could do a 5k course in 27 or less already.

Men have an anatomical advantage in running speed; I try not to be jealous about that since we women have the advantage in endurance and I, personally, have the advantage in neither. :)

There have been a lot of downs in the running journey this summer. I'm really hopeful that as the temperatures go down my joy will be renewed.

Abigail said...

It's not about the speed with John, since I have the upper hand there (kind of cheating because he's still got weight to lose) but that he runs ALL the hills, and since we live on top of Mt. Hunger, so called rightly, there are some big hills around. Most days, I wimp out and only run down (and up) half of Mt. Hunger, limiting my running back-and-forth on a roughly 3/4 mile stretch. He runs much longer stretches before looping back homeward, hills be darned. I don't know how he chugs to the tops without collapsing, because my legs feel rubbery after one such hill. I told him I think it's sheer force of will. :)

As far as cooler temps go, on Monday, with high heat and humidity, I almost croaked on a baby's run. Last night, though, was cool and breezy with the sun hidden behind clouds, and the 10k felt positively easy. I bet the same transformation is in your future; running will be pleasurable again, and you'll be well on your way to that marathon!

And, by the way...marathon. Quadruple gulp. I can't even imagine! Hey, you've done 18 miles; what's 8 more? The fact that I can't imagine such a feat and you're preparing for one marks one of many differences between country-bumpkin-halfway runners and "real" ones. :)

Abigail said...

Sorry for the novel. Sheesh.

Abigail said...

p.s. I just read your journal-making post and wanted to admire your handicraft. They are beautiful. What a pleasure it must be to use something so lovely that you've created!

Abigail said...

Yup. I'm done.

The End.

Kate said...

Running really can be a mental battle, Abigail, so you're not the only one who's impressed with John's will to jog up those hills. I've learned to do it more myself but I still give up occasionally and walk to the top when I feel the need. After all, this running thing isn't supposed to be torture.

I get really bored repeating the same route, it makes me far more likely to give up, which is why I can't bear the treadmill.

Feeling the chill in the air each morning, like you, I am convinced that my love of running will be renewed before long. I figure if I haven't completely given up yet, the habit is probably pretty well ingrained. If it weren't, I've already invested in races through May to keep me motivated.

Making journals is very good fun and they are a lot more satisfying to write in when I make them just so. Given your artistic proclivities, I've no doubt you could do it. It does take significant time and space, though less money then you might expect. I made my first book from things lying around my seminary dorm room.

Kate said...

I'm a novelist, too. Hence the need for ever larger journals.