Well, it turned out to be one of the ugliest runs i have ever had. 15 miles (thats right, 17 miles did NOT happen) of sheer awfulness. The breakdown went a little something like this:
1. Slept like crap, had to take dog out at 5am, couldn't get back to sleep, ended up super tired and cranky before even starting the run.
2. miles 1-3 - I am always grouchy and quiet the first three miles, thats about how long it takes for me to get warmed up and not be miserable/feel like i will die.
3. miles 4-5 - I was feeling alright, just tired. I felt how i normally feel after 10 miles at this point.
4. miles 6-10 - We explored some new territory here, so it was a huge boost. If i have new shiny things to look at, sometimes i can forget i am even running.
5. miles 11-12 - This is where things started to go from good to bad. When i start planning an escape route (as in, how can i ditch these jokers without them realizing it and go eat cupcakes somewhere) you know i'm in trouble. I stopped talking to everyone, and i started to feel tired, hungry, grouchy, and ANGRY.
6. miles 13-15 - this is where it went from bad to ugly. I started to hate every one that passed me. I imagined taking out their kneecaps, Tonya Harding style.
People in the group tried to talk to me, and i just ignored them. Flat out looking at people and not responding. I couldn't control what would come out of my mouth at that point - like my brain would think "yeah, this sunshine really is beautiful." but my mouth would actually say, "I hate you." I just ended up glaring awkwardly at anyone who tried to speak to me.
I saw people out with their cute little babies, and i just wanted to shout, "YOUR BABY IS UGLY". The babies weren't ugly, i was just so angry. Especially because i KNEW i was capable of doing this run and not being homicidal. When a run gets ugly, it is the worst feeling in the world. It's like hitting the wall (i imagine - i have never run far enough to hit empty) only a mental wall. The body is still working, the the brain has given you the finger and walked out.
I guess in the end, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. and angry. it usually makes you angry. You probably should have just killed me while you had the chance, 15-miler, because now i am angry and seeking vengeance.
I went home a cranky girl. I walked in the door and shouted "bloody mary!" at Matt and hit the shower. Luckily when i got out, there was a bloody mary waiting for me, otherwise i would have shanked him, and felt no remorse. I ended up taking a series of naps throughout the day in between chores- (i had a conference thing i had to stop by, and the laundry and dishes were overflowing, and the dog needed her nails trimmed, etc....)
The sleeping really seemed to help. When you are really truly sleep-deprived, you become a different person. You can even see it in my face - don't look like me when i'm tired. Waffles saw that i was dedicating the rest of my saturday to nap intervals and was all over it. She has an amazing future as a neck pillow. (we actually slept like this for an hour - with her wrapped around my shoulders like a fur stole...)
Today (sunday funday runday) i could not resist the 65 degree weather. Matt and i took waffles out on the town, and walked close to two miles! she also made about a dozen new dog friends. Then Matt and i headed down to the lakefront for a run. The shamrock shuffle is in two weeks, and Matt had clocked a whopping 7 miles for 2012. We ran five somewhat easy miles, and Matt did a great job of keeping on pace (he said he wanted to do 9:40, and we ended up at a perfect 9:30). The first couple miles he kept trying to motivate me (i seriously hate the first 3 miles) and the last two i spent motivating him. He did awesome. He tends to blow through all his energy in two miles, and then the run goes ugly for him and he ends up yelling at me, so this was a great run on his part.
Did you see it's supposed to be in the upper 60's all week? Maybe i can actually clock more than 30 miles this week. That would be awesome.