We did it!!!
Mendy (the hottie neighbor) and I finished our second half marathon!
I was SO freakin' full of nerves the night before and the morning of the race, ugh... I hate not being able to control my anxious brain. We spent the night on the island so Miss Priss and her pals could run the 5k on Friday night...
But I couldn't really relax because I was so freaked out about my gimpy leg. I'd done everything I could have to prepare myself mentally and physically for the half marathon, but it didn't help when my brain kept nagging at me that my temperamental soleus and twingy tendonitis might force me off the course. I'm relatively new to this pain stuff so I wasn't sure how I would deal with it during a lengthy challenge like this.
So the morning of the run, I got up early, ate my banana and a peanut butter sandwich, drank some water and prayed for a pre race poop. I walked out onto the balcony and felt the unseasonably warm wind, smelled the salty ocean air, and knew that today was going to be a good day. I said a quiet, "Thank you God" and went in to put on my running clothes.
The race start was scheduled for 8:30am, so we left the condo for the three mile bike ride to the starting line at 7:40. We arrived, nicely warmed up from our ride, to crowds of limber, athletic looking folks. Dang, with so many fit looking people, I was worried that I'd end up in the very back of the pack. There's nothing worse than having the course clean up car on your tail... nope, did NOT want that.
I'd done what my physical therapist recommended and affixed a Thermacare heat pad to the back of my leg, right under my calf muscle and then layered a calf compression sleeve over the top of it. I did my stretches and swallowed a tube of chocolate flavored GU (which is a package of pudding-like, high glucose, energy fuel stuff) and we headed to the line.
I don't even look like I'm awake do I?
But once they played the National Anthem and cranked up Crazy Train over the loudspeakers, I was ready to run run run.
And then the air horn sounded and we were off! The crowd was slow as we funneled under the archway and down the narrow street toward Butler Avenue, but then we quickly found elbow room once we got out onto the main road...probably because all the fast people had zoomed ahead at double our pace.
We'd decided that we'd do our regular 'run a song, walk a song' pace, with a sprinkling of 'run two songs' once we got good and steady. However, our adrenaline urged us to go ahead and run longer from the start, and by the time we'd hit 3 miles, I looked at my watch and said to Mendy, "Damn woman, you've got me at a 10 something pace!" She smirked, flexed her quads of steel, and charged on through the north end of the island. And of course I followed.
Miles 4 and 5 kind of sucked, and we dropped down to running just one song at a time... it always sucks when you're sub 6.6 miles because you know you're not even halfway through. However, my calf wasn't bothering me AT ALL, and there were still plenty of people behind us so I wasn't worried about being last. (It's so horrible to think of it that way, but I've been last before, and it's something I NEVER want to happen again. EVER.) I sucked another GU (peanut butter flavor..yum).
We hit mile six and started doing our doubles again. By this time we were back on Butler, heading south. Mile 7 was in front of Stingrays, where we always eat yummy crab legs on July 4th, and the thought of it carried me through to mile 8 which was way back in the southend neighborhoods of Tybee.
Right around 8.5, I felt the first shooting pain up my calf... hello tendon! It made me gasp. I spent a minute worrying about the fact that I'd not gone any farther than 8.4 since my injury. I said a prayer.
The pain subsided as quickly as it had shot through me, and we continued on at a song and a half pace. Carrie Underwood, Billy Idol, LMFAO, Justin Timberlake, Madonna, Coldplay. I got kind of lost and didn't know which way we were going. I was asking Mendy where the heck we were, when an older woman jogging beside us joked, "Well let's start with the fact that we're in Georgia first... We're on Tybee and we're heading toward the ocean at this moment." We all laughed and chatted a bit. Turns out, she's run FIFTEEN MARATHONS. It certainly seemed this was a cake walk for her. What an inspiration!
Mile nine was a blur... I honestly can't remember where the heck we were at that point, but then all of a sudden there was the mile 10 marker smiling at us. I checked my watch and my heart did a little flutter as I realized that we were nearly three minutes ahead of our Rock & Roll half marathon pace. Holy crap!
I didn't want to tell Mendy because my math isn't that good, and I was afraid I was miscalculating. At this point, I was slowing down, and she was doing a lot of running ahead and doubling back to me. Poor thing, she probably ran an extra half mile just coming back to get me. We rounded a corner to mile 11 and a lightening bolt pealed up the front of my calf for a second time. OUCH! Screw it. At this point I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I was going to push through this no matter what. Again, the pain went away. I told Mendy, "Let's run to 12" and we grabbed a quick cup of water knowing that we were on the last mile.
I finally looked at her and said, "We're going to beat our Rock & Roll time"... my voice quavered, and I teared up at the thought. She looked incredulous. We were well into our last mile and still had 14 minutes left. Neither of us could believe it!
A half mile of the home stretch lay in front of us like a dream, and that's when all hell broke loose. I don't know what the heck happened, possibly the adrenaline rush at the thought of beating our time did something to me... who knows, but as we were running, I was suddenly hit with the worst pain. Not in my leg... everywhere. I swear, my stomach, legs, arms, neck... everything hurt like I'd been beat. Forced to walk, a wave of fear-born panic nearly overcame me. I felt like I was going to hyperventilate, I needed to stop, but I didn't. A large brick mailbox looked like a great place to drape my body and take a breather, but no, I kept walking. In a act of Lifetime movie valor, I told Mendy, "Just go... beat your time!" and in the same fashion she told me, "No, just knowing that I could beat my time is good enough. WE ARE FINISHING TOGETHER."
It's probably a good thing she didn't leave me... I have a feeling that if she'd have given me the opportunity, I'd have curled up in a heap by the curb. But she didn't. She kept talking to me, urging me on, telling me that I could do it. And as I hobbled around the curve and onto Butler, the pain started to fade and then Eminem's voice came over my earbuds. Aw man... Eminem? He gets me EVERY time.
I grunted at Mendy, "Let's go... let's just go..."
And we did. She took off like a Mustang, and I like a 1976 Pacer. The crowds were cheering and yelling that we were right around the corner, and as I followed her ponytail bobbing around the final corner, I saw the red, white and blue archway that signaled that finish line. And that's all she wrote... I started crying and laughing and running as hard as I could.
I crossed the finish line in 2 hours, 35 minutes and 35 seconds. A full two minutes faster than our Rock & Roll time. And I cried. I mean, like ugly cried. I slipped my medal over my head, stumbled to a curb, sat down and buried my face in my arms. Sobbing.
Oh heck, y'all know I'm emotional. And the feeling of finishing this thing, after fighting this stupid calf injury, in a time that I'd NEVER expected, was just too much.
It was a good cry. Not quite long enough, but still good. I may cry now, just for kicks.
I still can't believe it, but I did it. WE did it.
And now I get to enjoy my physical therapy, and spend the next nine months preparing for the next one.
Was it one of the best days of my life? Um. YES.
