|Finally moving my butt before it gets too big to move.|
We had a wind advisory, so i went to the wooded path near my work.
The first 7-8 miles of the run went great. I started out a little fast even, and had to force myself into a slower pace. The temperature was perfect, about 58 degrees with no sun. I even wound up rolling my pants up into capris to get a little ankle breeze, and look even nerdier, if possible. I stopped at mile 7, ate my two little shot blocks, and decided that i should run like 11-12 miles, because i felt GREAT!. Then my stomach started to rumble. it was a weird rumble that i was unfamiliar with. Then it hit me. The last time i ate was 6 hours ago, and it was a luna bar. FAIL. I was starving. Like, would have killed and eaten a deer if it had crossed my path starving. I kept running, hoping the two miniscule shot blocks might dent the hunger, but by mile 8.5, my body just quit. I have never felt like that in my life. Walking was hard. I could not get my legs to work. That whole one foot in front of the other thing? BULLSHIT. I made it to nine miles and turned the garmin off. I had one mile until i reached my car, so i managed to run/walk/hobble for what seemed like hours. Every part of my body just hurt and hated me, and i hated my body right back. HOW DOES A RUN GO SO WRONG SO FAST???
I made it home and whined next to Matt, who had not even moved since i had left. I managed to hobble to the shower, which was SPARKLING CLEAN, by the way. I started to feel better, although kinda sick to my stomach. ENTER CHAMPAGNE.
|What CAN'T you fix??|