15.5 Miles of Doubt

@fashionablemiles (L)  & I post-25K. Rocking Oiselle Gear (my shorts)

Yesterday (Sunday, Nov 18th) I stood in the mass of people waiting for the gun to go off at the Houston HMSA 25K (15.53 miles). I had woken up tired from a tossy-turny night and dragged myself to the race. I stood at the start line and fiddled with my Garmin. The damn watch was "locating satellites" for what seemed like hours. It never located the satellites. The gun went off and I started this 3 loop 25K. Within the first few steps I knew it wouldn't be a run where I would need to convince my body to cooperate, but it would be a run where I would need to convince my mind that I was capable. I held my pace for the first 5 mile loop, I felt ok, and just tried to take in the beautiful morning that was wakening in front of me. The second loop I started to get mentally fatigued. I knew exactly where I was on the course. I knew exactly how far I had to go. I knew exactly where the next water stop would be.. That knowledge was brutal. My mind seems to take over in a  negative way when running a long distance race (except my Chicago race). Thoughts like, I could drop this. I could be sleeping. You're not fast enough. You may not finish. You won't finish. These thoughts tend to consume me for at least a few miles. They are rancid.

Flowers from my bestie Erin post race.

Halfway through the second loop I snapped out of this crazy mental state and noticed that I was more than half done with the race. I saw a running friend Luis, who yelled at me "It's all downhill from here".. For some reason it took me a few seconds for his words to register. I kept thinking, "No Luis there is a hill in front of me, its uphill.".. Then it clicked - I'm almost done. I looked at my Garmin to see how slowed I had been running at. 9:38. Crap. That's slow. I tried to pick up the pace. I needed to be more focused on my run. Not worrying about other runners or who was tracking my splits, or who would make silly comments on my pace. This race was supposed to be a 'long run'... not a race... But that's what I always say. I picked up the pace as pace I could (I was fatigued and hadn't run through any water stations - because I was being stubborn and stupid). I started to pass a few people and started to feel my stride. I started to feel good, how running should be. Then I felt........Crunch... Crunch... Crunch... Every time my left foot hit the ground, I felt.... Crunch.. Crunch... Oh dear, here we go again.... Some OTHER foot issue - now in the left foot... Never ending.. Crunch Crunch.. POP. OUCH! I was mid stride and I had to do a little skip move because my foot had this quick sharp pain. I kept running. I knew that if I just got to the finish then I would be ok. I would be done. I wouldn't have to think about this run. Crunch. Crunch.... Now its all I could focus on. I started to have these really harsh thoughts.. That I had trained too hard and now I was injured and NOW I would miss my big marathons coming up.... I had to finish. I had to get this shoe off and look at my foot.

I was almost to the bridge (final hill) and I saw some running friends who had finished in front of me and were cooling down by running back towards the runners cheering them on... I regained my inner strength and I straightened my back - and ran towards the finish. I crossed the finish strong, with my head held high.

Those few steps after my run, were awkward - as always. But my foot was throbbing and the pain was almost intolerable. I walked over to my running clubs tent and sat on the ground. I couldn't even be bothered to stretch or cool down or talk to anyone. I just wanted to cry. Cry because I had a sh!t race, a sh!t run, had a bad time, I wasn't fast, I wasn't beating any of my times, I wasn't being a good runner. My best friend Erin was my savior. She appeared out of no where with flowers in her hand. I was in complete shock she even showed up at the race. I gave her the biggest hug. She knew something was up - but she also knows me well enough not to ask - that I would tell her when I was ready. I hobbled to my car with her and we talked about anything other than running.

After my time with Erin I dropped her off at her apartment and I drove home. I didn't burst into the door and gush to my man all about my race; I simply walked in and told him I was going to shower. He knew it was a bad morning. He also just gave me some space to digest this race. I ended up showering and crawling on the couch with my Restoration Hardware blanket.. and I passed out. When I woke up... My foot was bruised and 'hot' to the touch.

Buising Under The Ankle - Makes me mad looking at it.

Long story short. I didn't run today. I am not running tomorrow. And I do have an appointment with a ortho surgeon on Wednesday at the Houston Ironman Sports Medicine Center. I haven't uploaded my Garmin results. I haven't looked at the official results. The only way I know my time is because my best friend Erin happen to mention it (she looked it up). 2:27. Not pretty.

You win some and you lose some... What I am taking away from this run is that I need to learn to trust my abilities. I need to have faith in my training and let my legs do the work they were meant to do. I need to let go of my insecurities and fears of failure when racing. Yes I am not the fasted, but I train and try just as hard... One day I'll win a race.. And I know exactly which one I want with my name in the 1st place spot. It won't be easy and it may takes years of trying.... But as my friend and dietitian has told me - if you believe it will happen.

When the official photo's of shame are published.. I'll be sure to post them back on this blog post.. Keep checking back for more race pictures.