Saturday, July 31, 2010

Thoughts While Running 13 Miles

Well, folks, I ran 13 miles today.

I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this, but 13 miles is kind of far. Like, really far. Like ridiculously far for someone who's longest run before starting training was 6 miles.

I don’t even know how to describe what it’s like to run the half-marathon distance. That may have something to do with the fact that I really can’t think right now because my body is still trying to process what I just did. The best way might be try to review my internal monologue. For those of you who know me well, this should be pretty entertaining.

Starting point: “Alright, I’m totally going to own this run. And, I'm so happy it's not 104 fucking degrees. Whooo! Let's do this."

Miles 1-2: “Slow down a bit. You’ve got quite a distance ahead of you. No. Seriously, Alisha. You're going to hurt yourself. Slow your roll.”

Mile 3: “Huh? My knee kind of feels funny. Maybe I should ice it when I get back and wear the brace for the rest of the day. It's the latest and sexiest fashion accessory, I'm sure. On the bright side, if I meet an attractive man tonight, he'll be really impressed that I ran half a marathon today.”

Mile 3.5: “Alright, knee. I don’t like you, and you apparently don’t like me. If you give out now, I will not be happy.”

Mile 4: “Georgetown is pretty. I’d like to live here whenever I can afford to shell out big dollars for a row house."

Miles 4 – 5: “Oh man. I should totally go shopping later.” (I was on M Street near all of the shops. I don't think about shopping all of the time, I swear.)

Miles 5 – 6: (While running past the State Department) “Hey, that guard is kind of attractive! Quick, run faster and look hardcore. Now, smile a bit. Sweet, he smiled back!.”

Mile 6: “Oh heyyyy, Honest Abe.”

Later: “Gee, there are a lot of slow moving tourists. Outta my way!”

Mile 7: “I kind of have to pee. Where to do marathoners pee during races? What if they have to go number 2? Didn't someone go on themselves at the end of the New York City Marathon a few years back? That's a party foul. God, I need to pee. Like. Now...BATHROOM!”

Mile 7 (after bathroom break): “Yes! Free bird! And this bird you cannot cha-a-ange!”

Mile 8: “Sweet! I’ve got five miles to go, and I still feel great!”

Mile 8-9: “Fuck, there’s a difference between First Street NW and First Street NE. I really need to remember that. Oh look. There’s Charlie Palmer’s. I’m so going to stuff my face with steak during restaurant week. Gah…need to get back over to First NE if I want this to count. Okay. There we are.”

Mile 10: “Ow…”

Mile 10.3 “Ow, Charlie, Owwwwwww.”

Mile 10.5” “Dude, seriously, if another guy says something to me or looks at me with lecherous eyes, I’m going to kick him in the balls.”

Mile 11: “Going…to….die. Hm…there’s a CVS. Maybe I should stop and get more water.”

(I picked up a very large bottle of water, stood in the longest line ever, was very pleasant to a surly cashier who clearly hates her job, and chugged the entire bottle near 20th and P.")

Mile 11-12:”Running uphill is the worst. Just the worst. It's start to get warmer. Oh man. Am I done yet?”

Mile 13: “It hurts and it’s still hurting! Oh wait, I’m done. FUCK YEAH!”

I rolled on the floor for a while when I made it back to my apartment and chugged Gatorade. Then, I sat in a warm bath for an hour.

It feels great to have run 13 miles. It hurts, but I'm definitely having an "It hurts so good" moment. I think my plan is to sit for just a while longer before I attempt to look like person again and head back out into the world.

The next long run is 15 miles. If you want to join me, let me know. Then, of course, I'll end up saying a lot of the above out loud.

Happy weekend!

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