The Two-hour Tour

Sometimes life throws you a curveball. As someone who has played a lot of baseball… including adult baseball… I know you just have to hang in there and hit it to the opposite field. I am not a flincher in a sporting sense, because that is exactly the sign of weakness a pitcher is looking for. I have taken fastballs to the shoulder thinking it was a curveball... but I was unwilling to flinch.

My training plan didn’t have me running half-marathon distance until around Thanksgiving, two months from now, but I missed some runs this week because of a family emergency, and found myself with 18 miles to cover for Saturday and Sunday. I considered two 9 mile runs, but then decided to split it to 5 and 13.1. That would give me a taste of the half-marathon. But would I like it?

Even though I am running 25-30 miles a week right now… my long runs are still short… 8 miles being the longest so far. I know people on programs only for a few months that are running much longer than that. I had a serious case of long-run envy. I already planned on running a half-marathon race on October 29th, but again, sometimes you get curveballs.

The family issues the past week put me prime in the mood for self-punishment. It is a bit ironic that I could use a 13 mile run to drive me to the same place I fought so hard to avoid the past week, emotional and physical exhaustion, but hey, if I am going to be exhausted it will be on my terms!

I guess I succeeded. The run was not really that difficult, but I am certainly tired. I ran at a very slow pace, 9 minute miles, and finished in 1:57:57. I think I could run quite a bit faster, but I wanted to be sure to not hurt myself. Now I know what a long run is. (At least for me) It was a bit more of a struggle in my head than on the road.

Within a mile of heading out I made the mistake of thinking that it was only two hours and I would be back. That led to two-hour tour (even though the theme song for Gilligan’s Island was really a 3-hour tour) and thus began the nightmare of the theme song that wouldn’t go away. For most of the run that stupid theme song was stuck in my head like a broken record. “The Minnow would be lost, THE MINNOW WOULD BE LOST.” Argh. Someone please veer off the road and run me over.

I had trouble getting into a comfortable rhythm during the run. Whether it was Gilligan’s Island, or the slow pace or something else, I just was never in ‘the zone’. Given the fact that I wasn’t really ready for a half marathon, I feel pretty good the day after. Everything seems to be working fine, and I think I will be able to continue on with my training without a hiccup.

There is a lot more I could write about that 13 mile run. It was its own little adventure in time… an aberration in my schedule… a curveball so to speak, but without flinching… I hung in there, and smacked a double to right field. I guess you could say I am half-way home.