The results are in. Thanks for all of the votes in the worst dressed running photo contest.
Winner for the boys: Fairy with no Camel Toe
Winner for the girls: Barefoot Angie B. and Her Bulge
You guys played along well. Winners - send me your addresses and I’ll get you your hydration packs!
Okay – sorry if my adventures in poop were a bit too much to handle yesterday for my 18.5 mile run. You guys were worried about me. My responses to your questions and concerns:
- No, I don’t poop that much everyday. In fact, there are many days, weeks when I don’t poop at all
- No, there is nothing physically wrong with me (I’ve had every GI workup and allergy test you can think of). A night of a huge Chipotle burrito and two glasses of chardonnay pre long run were to blame
- No, I am not a lover of pooping outside, i.e., fecopheliac. I would much prefer a warm bathroom with a hot pink fuzzy toilet seat and an issue of US Weekly to some hollowed out tree on a busy road
- Yes, I bring toilet paper. To avoid polluting the environment, I usually eat it
- No, I don’t take Imodium. That stuff messes me up for years at a time. Thanks for the suggestion, though
I had some insight on my long run yesterday. I think it was at about 14 miles where I hit my slump. I thought to myself, “I bet everyone has a point in a long run where they desperately want to cop out.” Or is it just me?
Mentally at 14 miles I was dog shit. I was far enough along into the run to be hurting mentally and physically, but not far enough along to think I was truly close to the end. I was psyching myself out. I hurt. I can't do it. I want to quit. Shit, I don’t want to do it. I could call Ken to pick me up. I could walk. Who would care? Who would know? The problem is, I care and I don’t quit. EVER.
Today, as I’m only exactly three weeks out from my marathon, I am starting to think about brain strategy. What will I tell myself when it gets tough? I am already starting visualizing myself running a fast, strong and happy race. I see myself with a smile on my face, taking in the Colorado scenery as I lightly fly along the course. I see my children and parents and husband at the finish. I see what I am wearing, how I am feeling. I see it all and know I can run a strong race.
Yet, I am scared. Terrified, in fact. So much is on the line. 16 weeks of tough training. One injury overcome. All for one race on one day. Talk about all the eggs in one basket. My only wish at the finish is to have no regrets and to have run the race to the very best of my ability on that day. And to maybe BQ. But I don’t count on that. In fact, I never say it out loud. Writing it even gives me the willies.
I was wondering: do we all hit these pitfalls and major mental breakdowns in our runs or is it just me? What do you tell yourself when you’ve reached your limit, but need to keep going? You know, I look to you for inspiration and guidance, whether you know it or not. I lean on YOU! Pass on your words of wisdom…
Finally, I am sharing this picture with you because it makes me happy. I don’t show many pictures of my kids on here, and don’t talk about them too much. But this one picture is enough to keep anyone going on a bad day and I wanted you to see it:
Happy week to come…