I’ve been a little quiet this week… it’s hard to write about writing, when a race you wrote about training for half the year ended in well… this. I’m hitting all the stages of grief now.
Denial… maybe it was all a dream
Anger… blaming my light, mother nature, other runners but most of all myself
Bargaining Maybe if I run 50 miles on my own it will count
Depression… After Friday night, I didn’t even want to look at my trail running shoes. I didn’t even want to think about running. I wanted to wallow and wallow in my self-pity. Tony was great though, he hosed off the 20 pounds of mud off my shoes and compression socks and it wasn’t until Tuesday that I finally ran them through the wash.
I punished myself on Saturday by making myself scrub the kitchen floor in hopes of making it clean like an OCD maniac (I don’t clean very often, or ever because I’m terrible at it). Then halfway I got tired and lazy and the scrubbing got downgraded to mopping & moping while no one was there to look.
I really wanted to wallow in my self-pity, but NOBODY would let me! Everyone has been so kind (or controlling) and every time I try to mumble something degrading, I’m shut down! Sometimes a gal wants to whine and mope you know 😉 However, I am too lucky with all the amazing support of friends and family I’m surrounded by.
T-dawg even dragged me to a celebration dinner we planned earlier even though I didn’t really do anything worth celebrating besides not breaking a leg (literally).
We went to Turner Seafood in Melrose with some friends. I ordered a margarita that has an oyster inside. It was amazing! It was like a bloody Mary made love with a dirty martini and popped out an oyster baby inside. I ordered the tuna burger and Tony ordered the fried seafood platter. Definitely will be coming back here again. At least I will for my new favorite drink.
I’ve accepted it. I finally washed my legs from the mud.
Just kidding, this is what my feet looked like AFTER a hose down Friday night I wasn’t allowed anywhere until I washed the mud off. Although days later, many foot soaks later and a pool swim later, I am still finding mud permanently engraved into my toes and feet. Sorry sexy red sandals, I’ll have to wait before I wear you again. Hello Toms.
I’ve accepted, Friday night was not my night for a 50 miler. I’m okay. It sucks, I spent a lot of time training and looking forward to it but that’s okay. I spent a lot of time TALKING, WRITING about it, but that’s okay. I plan on having many years of running ahead of me and there will be a 50 miler in my future. Maybe not this year, but there’s always next Spring.
In less than a month I’m running my first TRIATHLON! July 14th, Appleman Triathlon in Littleton, MA. It’s sprint distance which doesn’t have a real standard. This triathlon will be HALF A MILE swim, 10 mile bike, and 3.1 mile run.
Where’s my swimming. So far I can swim 50 yards in the pool with only one mouth full of water before I grab the wall. I only have to do 16 times that distance in open water in less than 4 weeks.
So needless to say, my focus for the next 3-4 weeks will be learning how to swim. I’m trying hit the pool one way or another every other day before my arms fall off.
I’m signed up for another 50 miler. TARC Summer Classic. There is still a chance I’ll drop down to 50K. I’m not planning on keeping up high mileage training like I was the TARC 50 miler last week. With summer heat and activities, I think I’ll go about 50-60 miles of running and just see how I feel come August 17th.
Before that, I’ll be running a trail marathon, Bear Brook Trail Marathon July 27th.
That’s about it for the summer. I’ve accepted what happened and I’m moving on and enjoying all the perks and wonders I have around me.
Now if it would only stop raining and being cold in Boston.