Imagine this: You are at the water stop on the halfway point of an 11-mile run. You open your pouch to get out your gu/gel pack/carb mix so you'll have enough fuel to finish what, so far, has been a surprisingly good run even though you've been battling a stomach virus and have only eaten a banana, and drank some gatorade and an Accelerade shake in the previous 12 hours.
Imagine how stupid you feel when you can't open your packet. Seriously. That was me this morning. A packet of Accelerade waiting for me, but I couldn't open it. And nobody happened to have scissors on the route. So I drank what the organizers had arranged for us and went on, knowing that on what I'd eaten the last day, I was on borrowed time; also knowing that I'd finish because it was an out and back course.
The out was mostly uphill though a very well-kept neighborhood. There was a 1-mile warmup, then a mile when we did these crazy leg exercises that included high-knees, walking on our heels, running on our toes, and skipping. Then we ran 3.5 miles to the turnaround. My splits were 8:13; 8:17; 8:15; and 4:02 for the 1/2 mile split.
My stomach was going every-which-a-way. But I didn't panic too much when I couldn't get to my food because I knew the way back was mostly downhill. And off I went: 4:14 for the 1/2 mile split; 7:56 for mile 7; 8:24 for mile 8; and 8:57 for mile 9.
Notice a trend? The bottom was falling out. All the other runners in my group were so far ahead of me that I couldn't see them. I was no match for the 80-degree day. I did the last two miles in about 21 minutes, walking about two-tenths of the distance to stretch out a cramp.
I hit the stop button on my Garmin 305 when I walked and so the amount that I ran was exactly 10.76 miles in about 1:34:51. I went home. Slept for 4 hours and woke up with the biggest headache and an even bigger appetite.
The former is because I was dehydrated. The latter is because, perhaps, my stomach bug is gone.
Yeah, and I hope it never comes back.
Imagine how stupid you feel when you can't open your packet. Seriously. That was me this morning. A packet of Accelerade waiting for me, but I couldn't open it. And nobody happened to have scissors on the route. So I drank what the organizers had arranged for us and went on, knowing that on what I'd eaten the last day, I was on borrowed time; also knowing that I'd finish because it was an out and back course.
The out was mostly uphill though a very well-kept neighborhood. There was a 1-mile warmup, then a mile when we did these crazy leg exercises that included high-knees, walking on our heels, running on our toes, and skipping. Then we ran 3.5 miles to the turnaround. My splits were 8:13; 8:17; 8:15; and 4:02 for the 1/2 mile split.
My stomach was going every-which-a-way. But I didn't panic too much when I couldn't get to my food because I knew the way back was mostly downhill. And off I went: 4:14 for the 1/2 mile split; 7:56 for mile 7; 8:24 for mile 8; and 8:57 for mile 9.
Notice a trend? The bottom was falling out. All the other runners in my group were so far ahead of me that I couldn't see them. I was no match for the 80-degree day. I did the last two miles in about 21 minutes, walking about two-tenths of the distance to stretch out a cramp.
I hit the stop button on my Garmin 305 when I walked and so the amount that I ran was exactly 10.76 miles in about 1:34:51. I went home. Slept for 4 hours and woke up with the biggest headache and an even bigger appetite.
The former is because I was dehydrated. The latter is because, perhaps, my stomach bug is gone.
Yeah, and I hope it never comes back.