Clear the Air

In my last post I wrote about being disappointed in myself for my last run.  I have been getting some interesting feedback about that post.

I just want to clarify that I do think it is amazing that I completed a half marathon (13.1 miles).  I am very proud of myself for that.  While I was training though, I reached a mile speed that was 2 or 3 minutes faster than what I did on race day. 

That is beyond frustrating.

Think cutting into a turkey on Thanksgiving Day only to find it is still raw in the center despite slow roasting in a oven since 5a.m.

Or, if you teach your kids over and over not to hit and they go to a play date and you have to leave early because they cannot keep their hands to themselves.

The one instance is not indicative of your ability and that is frustrating.

In truth I only missed my goal time by about 4 minutes.  Better hydration and well timed potty breaks will get me those minutes back in my next one.

I am in no way ready or willing or thinking of giving up on running.  I don't expect to be fast.  I just expect to run the race I know the I am capable of running.

As proof that I am a-ok, here is a picture of me with my medal, looking very proud if I do say so myself.

In other news, it seems CBL has taught herself how to fart on command. 

I am not someone who generally finds farting or fart jokes funny. 

In extreme, unexpected circumstances, like if the President of the United States (any one of them) farted while giving the State of the Union, I would probably laugh. 

Generally that's not my humor style.

However, CBL seems to think farting is comedic genius. The more appalled I seem, the harder she laughs.  Of course, Josh and Pman only encourage this outrageous behavior.

In this case, I do feel like I am fighting a loosing battle.

Bummed

Yesterday was the half marathon in Philly.

I officially trained for the race for months.  Getting up early on Saturday mornings and run, run, running until I reached 12 miles a couple times.

On Friday nights I stayed away from junk food, drank plenty of water and went to bed early.

I missed the hustle and flow of Saturday mornings with the fam in an effort to rise to the challenge on September 16.

I stared down the barrel of a long training run on hot, muggy mornings.  I nursed blisters and pulled muscles.

I ran while we were on vacations.

Forty-eight hours before the race I packed up the CBL for her first alone trip to Mimi and Pop-Pop's, so that Josh and Pman could have a peaceful "Daddy Parker Weekend."

Twenty- four hours before the race I watched Pman play in his second soccer game.

Two race outfits were packed (just in case) along with many band-aids, Tylenol and a protein packed breakfast for race day.

I wasn't nervous.  I just kept saying, (to others and myself) "It's just running.  All I have to do it put my feet down.  I'm just doing this for me."

3, 2, 1- gun shot fired and we are off.

I ran the first half feeling really good.  There were bands along the way, cheerleaders in the street and plenty of people, or runner, watching to keep me distracted.

Somewhere around the half way point, there was a Scottish band complete with kilts, bagpipes and a fur boot wearing Go-Go dancer.  The singer jokingly said into his mic, "Only 15 miles left!" He was promptly boo'ed by those of us who had the breathing-power to muster a boo.

Along the way, some little kids held their hands out for high fives and others gripped signs that read, "Go Mommy! We are proud of you."

Somewhere around mile 9 or 10, I started feeling dangerously dehydrated.  I didn't drink a lot before the race because I was afraid I'd have to stop running to pee and I didn't want to mess up my time. I didn't end up having to pee, but I did end up losing peripheral vision in my right eye for about a mile or so, maybe a bit more.

As I past the next few water stations, I grabbed two waters and a (warm) Gatorade.  They helped, but I was still off.  Fuzzy.

My time sucked.

I trained better than that. I feel like everything I gave up or planned for was thrown out the window because I didn't run smart.  I should have drank more before the race and stopped earlier on at the water stations.

I'm happy I ran the race.  I did run it.  The only time I sort of walked was when I was drinking the water because really running while drinking water out of a small waxy Dixie cup seems impossible.

However, I am very disappointed in myself.  I'm embarrassed that my race time does not at all reflect the training that went into achieving this goal.

I want to do another one so I can erase this one.

How's that for motivation?