I hit the wall. Mostly just mentally. But it was a pretty good wreck. But I rallied by way of morale support.
Let me explain. And be forewarned, there is a fair amount of truth to this tale, and a fair amount of embellishment (because sometimes the truth isn't as entertaining all on it's own).
A 20 mile run is no joke. That's a big un! I'm certainly up to the task, of course. But there are still some mental issues that go along with such an undertaking.
It used to be I would prep (both mentally and in all other areas) for a week or more for this length of a run. I'd pour over my various run routes I like, I'd spend inordinate amounts of time thinking about snacks and hydration and what I'm going to wear and on and on.
Yesterday's long run was planned as such:
- I stopped by the store and picked up various snacks.
- I mapped out a route I had been thinking about (looping around Humboldt Bay) which took about 2 minutes.
- I figured what time of day I was going to go.
- And I went.
I knew I was in for about 3.5 hours of time. I was OK with this. I had it all figured out in the course of an afternoon. The actual look is about 20.2 miles, give or take a 100th or two based on variations in the road, staying to inside corners, and such like that.
The change in preparing for such an undertaking is a new part of this process I am in, getting ready for 24+ hours of running. What hasn't changed is the simple giddiness I get as I'm more and more excited about these long runs.
The first 12 miles of this look are actually pretty easy. Some gentle rolling hills which wind through the area that skirts the bay and the foothills (if we actually have foothills; that term might apply more to my former life living in the Sacramento Valley).
So the first 12 miles are scenic and winding and provide a fair amount of variety which makes the time go by at a reasonable clip. Here are some examples is the first 12:
Yeah, its safe to say, I was loving the first 12 miles.
But then, there is Highway 255. Which looks like this:
This IS Highway 255, just on the west side of Arcata. From this point, its about 8 miles to the finish line.
Its pretty safe to say my general outlook changed a little here.
This reminds me of the many trips to SoCal which we took when I was a kid. We always took the back roads from Vacaville through Rio Vista and eventually got onto to Highway 5. After the windy hilly roads came the forever interstate. It was so straight and so flat it literally just disappeared into the horizon. And thanks to the beauty of perspective, despite traveling at 70+ mph, those things in the distance so far away never seemed to get any closer
And so it was with the bridges over Humboldt Bay. I saw them. They seemed a fair ways off. And yet, they never seemed to get any closer. And in my mind, I crumbled a bit. I "hit the wall". I "bonked". I "crashed". I was suddenly demoralized. The final distance from that point was less than 4 miles. Child's play in comparison. I could eat a 4 mile run for breakfast. But suddenly that distance seemed insurmountable. I might as well have been been staring at the foot of Kilimanjaro. My legs were still moving, but mostly out of sheer will. On top of this crash, I was not specifically getting a tail wind. More of a cross wind. Which isn't as bad as a headwind, but actually seemed more annoying. Anyway, for a few moments, I lost my will to fight. Yet I persevered. I kept my legs moving, and breathing steady, and I just kept going.
As a side note, its always good to have a support crew, even if they can't be on every run. But sometimes the voice in the ear saying "Keep running!" is magical, and can bounce any person back from the brink of despair. Even when the voice is saying things you already know, even when the voice is saying things you know make sense. Sometimes you just need to hear it from a source outside your own head.
IT was like the clouds had parted and the sun was shining (which is completely metaphorical here, as it was totally sunny and awesome despite the crazy wind) and the host angels were paying homage to my efforts.
And still, I ran on.
That last stretch of 4 miles was long, but doable. I'm sure my pace was affected, and I do not mind this. It is what it is. I broke through that wall like the Kool-Aid Man breaking through the living room wall and yelling, "Oh yeah!!"
The final mile was a bit of a set back when Frankentoe decided to show up, but that is a tale in and of itself, a persistent problem which I'm hoping we'll have remedied soon.
All in all, this 20 miler is in the books as a success. And now its time to simply go farther.
No comments:
Post a Comment