Wednesday, January 24, 2007

12 Mile Hil - ***ABORT!***ABORT!***

Well, I kind of had a bad night tonight.

I met up with the Axis of Evil for another run. The group is getting larger; there were 7 of us tonight. I think they were looking to do a 12-mile run: about 1-2 miles of hills, then 6 miles of flat, then 4 miles of hills. Or as they call it, "a fun run." I don't think I ever planned on doing the entire thing. I felt I could probably stay within about a minute of them for the first 5 miles, then turn around and take a slightly different route back to the car (avoiding the initial hill) at a slower pace, and I'd get a great 9-10 mile run out of it. Such was the plan, anyway.

Things didn't work out that way, and it's my own fault. I made the mistake of racing home from work, wolfing down a dinner, and then dashing out to meet up for the run. It's probably not such a good idea to run on a full stomach. I did pretty well on the first hill segment, and wasn't falling too far behind in the flatlands but I could feel a big solid lump in the upper part of my stomach. It was shaped like a steak and buttered roll, which coincidently is what I ate about 45 minutes before. I could feel myself slowing down a bit, and then all of sudden I just stopped in my tracks and let out a very wimpy dry-heave. I think mentally I wanted to throw-up just to relieve the pressure, but I wasn't in bad enough shape to actually do it. I know that sounds wierd, but yes: I wish I was MORE sick just to get it over with.

I made it about 3 miles out and basically said "I'm done." The problem now was that I still had to get back to the car. That kind of sucked. I tried jogging a few times but each time I did I could feel myself getting sick and I decided not to push it and I walked most of the way back. I got back to my car 90 minutes after I left: about 27 minutes on the outbound path, 63 minutes to return.

I realize there is a fine line between "explanation" and "excuse", and I don't want to place all the blame on my rushed dinner. A lot of the problem was simply that I can't run that fast. But next month I will run faster than I do now, and in March I will run even faster. And hopefully eat less.

There is a bit of a bright side to this. A year ago, I would have been a little upset if I couldn't complete the run. Two years ago, it would have thrown me into a deep depression. But now I have achieved a certain comfort level with my own abilities (and limitations), such that if I can't keep up with a workout I have no poblem saying "screw this shit, I'm going home!" and not feel bad about it.

5 Comments:

Blogger Iron Pol said...

Those days come up every now and again.

I'd say the meal definitely takes most the blame. Of course, that goes right back to the person holding the fork. I had one particularly challenging run due to an excessive amount of fruit eaten a few hours earlier. Enough said.

And whether it's stomach issues, injury, fatigue, or other things, I've had those long slogs home after realizing that the run has gone badly.

5:57 AM  
Blogger Laurie said...

A definite sign of growth and maturity to accept that you cannot finish a run and not feel bad about it. Life happens. You live and hopefully learn.

11:35 AM  
Blogger GeekGirl said...

Um, 2 hours minimum. Between a light meal and running. 3 or 4 for what you have. Next time, save the steak and potatoe for the post-run reward and have a pre-run gel instead. :-)

8:26 AM  
Blogger TRI Vortex said...

Little by little we all make progress. Whether its physically or mentally, stepping forward IS progress. When you saw me on new years, that was the first time I've been out in public without a shirt in a LONG time. Like I said...progress. Enjoy your new found comfort and self-realization. In order to love other, we must first learn to love ourselves.

9:37 PM  
Blogger Cliff said...

hmm...

when i first read your title, i thought of running up and down a hill for 12 miles....

u are giving me ideas of new way to inflict pain to myself.

1:19 PM  

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