Warmth

There are times when I run - alone or in groups - where I say in my head, "no one is making you do this....". 

710 says otherwise. 

He says the voices in my head tell me to keep going. He means more the C part of my OCD than actual voices. My shrink says I don't have schizophrenia*. 

This last Sunday I was painfully reminded why two years ago I said I'd never run another Spring marathon. Mind you, I didn't, but I did run the Cleveland Half Marathon for the third time.

At one point in time in my running, I said I'd never run outside where people could see me; and I wouldn't run without a shirt. Both of these last "rules" have been broken. This year, I broke it big time.  

While I did a half two weeks prior and I did "well",  that days started off 30°F cooler than this last Sunday - or what I'd call, optimal racing weather.  This last Sunday started at 63°F and shot up as the sun came over the horizon. 

Don't get me wrong. For a day other than running it was beauteous. For running, it was brutal. 

I knew by mile 2 it was going to be too hot to meet my goal time. I knew by mile 5.5 I wasn't getting a PR. 

When I started running a few years back and people would axe me my goal, I'd say "I just want to finish" - and that was true. While I calculated times in my head, the reality of the sitch was just to make it through my first 5K, Half and Full. Vertical. 

By mile 8 two days ago, that was my goal again: to finish.

I mean, I knew I would finish, but I knew it would be ugly. And it kind of was. 

Certainly this was not in the bottom half of my other half marathon times, but nothing about which to gloat. 

At mile 10.5 I did the unthinkable:  I took off my shirt. In public. In a race. Where there were cameras. And spectators. 

No one wanted to see that, least of all me. But at that point it was a survival technique. Had it not been a great shirt, I would have just tossed it, but I held onto it for the rest of the race, pouring as much water over my head as I took in my mouth - if not more.

I pseudo raw dogged it the entire race. While I had my phone and headphones, I never turned on my music - at all. As for my watch, I never looked at it to see my pace. It would either bum me out of psych me out - so I just let it calculate its shit on its own. 

There is something freeing about it all. You are way more aware of your surroundings - and there were tons os capable people out there of all ages, shapes sizes and ability. All getting it done. 

As with every after run "party", I pretty much got my water, chocolate milk and banana. I had no real desire to carry around their giveaways of protein bars and chips......though salt afterwards is highly recommended. I went for the potassium more than the sodium. 

They were passing out bags of ice, which I took and promptly put directly on my head. It was heaven. 

Then I ambled to my car, drove home and took a long cold shower. Even more heaven. 

....now I just have to worry about a full marathon in the fall, which I don't feel equipped for in the slightest. And because it's an earlier fall race, I get to start training in two weeks instead of six. Good news is, I'll get to the 20 mile mark a lot sooner than my training group. 

Look at me with a silver lining. Those antidepressants are doing their job. 

Still - a great reminder to never do a Spring time full marathon. 

*Do not call people "Schizophreniacs". They have schizophrenia. You don't call stroke survivors or cancer patients by their disease. 

Song by: Bastille