MIA

I haven’t blogged in a week. I haven’t read other’s blogs in that time either – and I miss it. But I’ve been busy and my kids have been sick. Brynlee is still sick today, but well enough that she’s at daycare and I’m at work – trying to get caught up on work, but blogging instead.

On Friday night, Brynlee was up crying most of the night. Consequently, I was up too. Although I felt horrible that morning, I still decided to try and run the ½ marathon that my brother and I had planned to run as training for the “real” ½ we’ve been training for on the 19th. I’d been training well, and haven’t cheated on one training run so far. I’ve felt really strong. In fact, the previous weekend I’d run 10 miles non-stop at around an 11:30 pace. Not blazing fast, but descent for me. So I really wasn’t too worried about this race. I didn’t plan to actually “race” it, but to run at a nice, comfortable training pace.

It was a smallish race – only about 400 runners, and for the first time ever, I lined up at the front of the pack. Of course I got passed by about ½ the runners almost immediately, but I maintained my middle-of-the-pack place for the first 3 miles. After about 3 miles, the course turned and headed out towards the lake, where the wind was blowing strongly in my face. It was bitter cold, and zapped my energy completely. People started passing me right and left. I was feeling really sick and lethargic. Running became almost impossible and I struggled to maintain a power walk. Pretty soon, I couldn’t even see anyone else behind me. I was sure that I was in very last place. The nausea got worse and worse, to the point where I couldn’t even drink. I’m sure the lack of fuel and fluids only made my condition worse. At every checkpoint, I would have an internal dialogue with myself about whether or not I should continue – but I pressed on. My legs felt like lead and even moving my arms became difficult.

Mile 9 found me back on a main road, and at an intersection, I finally decided to quit. I’ve never quit anything before, and I felt like such a failure, but I was feeling so horrible. So, instead of continuing on the route, I cut back onto a road that would short-cut me back to the finish line. I had made it about a mile when a police office pulled over next to me and asked if I was ok (I must have looked awful – or was it the step-step-retch-step-step that gave me away?). I admitted that I wasn’t ok, and he offered a ride which I graciously accepted. So, I hopped into the back of the squad car.

The officer was amazingly nice to me, and although I was so embarrassed he made it seem not so bad. He even offered to drop me off a block away so I could still run across the finish line. I laughed at him, but then realized I had to turn my chip in anyway. So I did cross the finish line. I felt like such a fraud as they called my name.

I finished about 5 minutes before my brother, and when he ran in and saw me he was very surprised. He ended up with a PR of almost 8 minutes, and he has bronchitis. I felt like even more of a loser. I did spend the rest of the day puking and/or lying in bed. I’m certain I must have had the flu my girls had earlier in the week. But what a horrible day for me.

Brynlee is still sick today, but at least I’m feeling better (other than just being really tired). I’m scared too about what next Saturday’s race is going to bring. I’ve been training so hard and I really want to run well.