The longest run is the one you have to do, by yourself, in the rain, and your iPod craps out just far enough from the parking lot to not allow you to go back and get a new battery.


Part of the training process for running a distance event like a half marathon is the dreaded "long run". This is a recommended once a week event, and our team of runners normally gather at 7:00 a.m. at the Niskayuna Bike Path to get it done with some camaraderie, planned water stops, and the knowledge that if you decide to bail out short of the planned mileage....everyone will know, and yes, they'll all talk about you behind your back. It's an incentive to run the whole thing. Kind of like a "Scared Straight" program. :) Oh, and our running coach Meg always has a trunkful of brownies, cookies, pretzels and Power Bars for after the run. I've seen lions rip apart a deer carcass less savagely than my teammates tearing into the baked goods. It's not pretty.

The rest of the week you're pretty much on your own in terms of how much running and how often, but I usually bang out two or three short runs during the week--anywhere from two to four miles, depending on how I feel about the whole thing that day. Some days I plan on running a solid, fast-paced three miler.....and I can tell about two minutes into it that I'll be lucky to finish two because either a.) I'm cranky b.) my socks aren't making me happy c.) the sun's in my eyes d) it's too: hot, cold, windy, rainy or e.) I'm cranky.

This weekend the team gathered as usual on Saturday, but I couldn't join them or my running partner as FASNY duty called, requiring my presence elsewhere. I promised myself I'd drag my butt out of bed on Sunday morning (that would be THIS morning) and finish however many miles my running partner decided to complete on Saturday. Maureen called me Saturday to notify me that she had run seven miles in 80 minutes. That's respectable, and she definitely had raised the bar, as those seven miles at Niskayna include the Hill from Hell. It's a half-mile hill at a 90 degree angle, and it's a bitch to run. It's WAY fun coming down, but getting up it is another story.

The alarm went off this morning at 7:30, and after some stalling, I got up, got dressed, and got out of the house.
I realize as I'm driving to the path that the light misting rain is starting to pick up in intensity. Great.

I arrive at the path, throw on a hat and smack myself for not bringing my rain jacket, grab my bottle of water and my iPod and off I go.

"Hmm.....it's colder than I thought it was, and it's raining pretty hard now....maybe I should cut this short and finish at the gym..." .....this thought process was followed by the knowledge that Maureen had done the run, and I was fresh out of excuses.

I drop my bottled water stash at the two mile marker so that I'll have it on my return...and pick up the pace a little. I've got good music going, my legs are turning bright red and going numb from the wind and rain, but my breath is good so I'm pretty confident I'll finish trouble-free. That was just about the last curse-free thought I had for the day.

Mile 3: The Hill from Hell is looming ahead, I'm soaked to the skin, and I'm trying to muster up the cojones to tackle it when my iPod goes silent.

NOoooooooooooooooo!!!!! If there's one thing I hate about running, it's listening to my ragged breathing. It makes me feel more tired than I actually am....and I am now realizing that I can't recall the last time I changed the battery on the thing...

Fine. Great. I haul myself up the hill...pause for a moment to pick my lungs up off the ground ...and head back down for the return...my heart hammering in my chest like a jackrabbit.

Mile 5: I'm now humming as I run, trying to drown out the noise of my gasps for air.....my sneakers are soaked through (I misjudged the depth of a puddle on the path...this was followed by a virulent stream of cursing and eff-bombs), I can't feel my legs anymore (who's brilliant idea was it to wear shorts today?!! Oh right, it was MY brilliant idea) and my mouth is so dry it's making the Sahara look like a lush tropical paradise.

Mile 6: Ok, got some water, don't feel like mugging any of the passing bicyclists for their stash anymore.....but I did think about it seriously for a while.....

Mile 6.5: I now realize that if I'm going to match Maureen's time, I'm going to have to seriously step up the pace......I'm reasonably certain that after I abandoned all running mechanics, I must have resembled a Bataan Death March survivor sprinting from a pack of grizzly bears......

Mile 7: Hallelujah.....must crawl to the van.....which I parked what appears to be eight MILLION miles from the path......I'm panting for air....stumbling toward my car.....and then.........

I swallow a bug.

I restrained the urge to stick my finger down my throat and make myself puke because I can't wrap my mind around the idea that nothing will come up but a still-alive bug.......scrabbling and scratching the entire trip up my esophagus.

Shudder........ oh well, it's protein, right?

Until next time.....

FUNDRAISING UPDATE: I have $1,165 on my page----77% of my goal......but with the mailed in checks that I know about, I'm at $1265, plus the $100 personal donation I make every year and just sent in, brings me to $1365!!!
Almost there!!!!