Saving the Best for Last

That's the way to do it, right?  When doing a half marathon every month for the year, it doesn't make sense to do the scenic races early. On paper, that seems like the way to do it, but I'll this is the real world and it doesn't work out that way.  Today, is a trail race where I've maybe logged six miles total in the summer and today is winter. Lets see what happens.

Not only did my cheering section accompany me, but she also chauffeured. As we sat in the car, trying to keep warm before the start, I thought back to why I signed up for this run. Oh, how much difference a year makes. Looking at the pictures from the previous year, there wasn't more than a dusting of snow. Heck, that looks easy, I can do that! Staring out the window, not the same! I think I should be skiing, not running.  Did I really sign up for this? Did I miss the "no snowdrifts" option when filled out the form?

Scraaaape, goes the shovel to start the race. The first mile was on a two track that had been driven on, so it was almost like running on snow covered roads.  The traction of the new shoes felt good. While it wasn't prefect, it wasn't bad and only added a little extra effort.  Then mile two started the trail. Conditions quickly changed, to a single path of footprints in probably six to eight inches of powder.  At this point I quickly decided there wasn't any point wasting energy trying to pass people. At times, it felt very frustrating not to go faster, but I kept telling myself it's okay and it's better to save energy for the end because it's still very early in this race and even though it seems to be going alright, never know what's to come.

At the first water stop, I got the typical question of "where are you from, Alaska"? Somewhere after this stop, I noticed that my calves were starting to hurt. It would be one thing it were because it was super hilly, but I know this pain, I've felt it before.  This is the tell tail sign where my shoes are brushing my calves as I struggle to keep my footing. While it's still early, this is going to be a problem, maybe this is why people wear pants.  About this same time, the guy behind me says "woah dude, your leg is bleeding, that last stick got you".  My response was no, it's just my calves starting to get raw from the scraping of my shoes, don't worry about it.  Fast forward to the end, sure enough I had two puncture wounds from that stick. It looked like a cool battle wound, but the sad reality is the rubbing from my shoes totally masked getting stabbed by a stick.

Mile eight is where the "saving the best for last", stopped.  This is a damn nightmare, crazy, what was I thinking, my ankles hurt so bad from all the excess twisting, my calves are on fire, lord I'm only halfway through this.  Being fast, attempting to place thoughts were gone. Survival mode is here, and I know that because I'm walking up this hill while texting CT how awful I feel and how hard this is.

Mile ten, more of the same. This is the first race where I've had three different text conversations, with three different people, all going on the middle of a race before. I had the time, each mile seemed like it was taking forever. Before you say, you should have been running harder, maybe you'd be right, but my legs were done and fear of injuring my legs anymore than they already were telling me didn't make sense.  At the last water stop, again I did something I've never done before, I grabbed a chair and sat down.  My secret weapon for this race was going to be running with a spare pair of socks, figuring my feet would be soaking wet from the snow, switching them out would be a nice backup.  While sitting, it was a challenge to even change my socks, my legs were cramping and even had my abs locking up in kind of a charlie horse. One would think this would be a nice break to regroup and finish this thing, but instead every second felt like torture.

The final miles were spent reflecting. I've had some very tough runs, the one that I thought would live in infamy forever as the most horrid one...just got passed by this one.  I can't think of a race where I've been more excited to see the finish line. Crossed the line, can't even remember if I gave CT a hug, got my post race snow globe finisher medal, and practically fell into the car and let my chauffeur drive me home.

My injury report goes like this, two calves that burned something awful for two days post race from the slashing they endured trying to stay upright.  Right calf, two pencil sized holes from a stick. Didn't even notice this until the following day because the pain from everything else, but a good sized blood blister on my right little toe.  Then finally, the sore muscles that lasted all week.  But hey, it was a pretty run. Think I'm going to pass on this one next year and will really save this race for never.