For our weekend run we had scheduled to run 8 miles. We decided to fool our brains and upon meeting at the park, collectively decided to go ahead and do our 14 mile run that was actually scheduled for this coming weekend. We got a later start (around 9:30) and it was a beautiful morning, but the weather predicted 90 degrees for the day. We were off... I was pumped and feeling good!
In hindsight I should have suggested we stick to 8 when we were at about mile 4 and I had been pulling along my running buddy the first 4 miles by staying a couple paces ahead and he was making comments like "I keep waiting for that runners high to kick in!" Because about that time he was taking some goo and a walk break and I was running on and then circling back. This happened a few times and didn't seem that big of deal in the first half of the run. But flash foward to mile 10 or so and I was beginning to feel pooped and wanted to just keep running and get back to the car. I couldn't keep circling back and knew I wouldn't do well walking and running so we decided I would run on back without him.
That went well until about mile 12 when I was mentally telling myself-- just get to the light post, just get to the bridge, just get to the stop sign... then you can walk a minute. So at mile 13 I "just got to the corner" and decided to walk a minute. That's when I confirmed I felt like crud and did not want to run again and that walking would take too long to get me back. Rock. Hard Place.
When I was walking, hot, dying and contemplating all of this a cyclist passes me. I am thinking-- they probably think I look like death warmed over. Then I hear the bicycle's breaks and hear them turning around. I figure they do think I look like death and are turning around to check on me. That's when I hear "Rachel is that you?" Oh no. And yes it. Turns out to be a young guy who has recently joined our architect's organization. We chat a while. I am mortified and how I look, smell, feel, and that I just saw someone I actually knew and decideupon parting ways to run again. I make it almost back before I walk in to the car.
I stretch some and then drive to pick up my running buddy who is very happy to see me and we call it a day!
Hoping our race run in two weeks doesn't go so bad and my stepdad and I can find our running groove together for the actual race. So there you have it. My admission to a cruddy run and throwing my stepdad under the 'ol blog bus.
And I leave you with a few pics of the kiddo at 7 1/2 months old... (PS-- please tell time to SLOW down!!)
And just because I am NEVER in a photo WITH my kid... here is one my hubby took...