FYI- sleeping in your compression socks does not give you new springy legs in the morning. Well, maybe it would for you... but it didn't for me. Bummer.
It was a good experiment on my part though. :)
I tried to blame Motorpace and his setting the road on fire yesterday for the lack of spring in my legs today. But when I gave Scott that excuse, his reply was, "You were the knucklehead who followed him yesterday!" Ok. Fair enough.
Anyway, suffice to say that my half marathon this morning was... well... just a half marathon. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either. Not that I expected it to be. Jen warned me that I would not feel good. In fact, in her email instructions to me this week she said, "Not a fan of you racing this weekend AT ALL. But you do what you need to do." Hmmm. Wonder what she meant by that?
It was fine though. Clearly I was missing some of the competitive fire that I used to have... because I was just out there running, and when it started to hurt, I just slowed down. There was nothing in me this morning that really wanted to lay it on the line. Weird, because yesterday I was totally good with putting it all out there. Go figure.
Anyway, I debate about telling you all this part of the story, my bloggy friends... It definitely falls in the TMI category... But I share it in the interest of keeping this post interesting... because it could possibly be the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to me in a race and might make for a good chuckle from some of you at home... Ok. Ready?
I can't believe I'm going to tell you this.
So let's go back to middle school for some vocabulary and just say that, um, Aunt Flo came out to visit this weekend, which, unbelievably in 15 years of racing, has never happened to me before. I didn't invite her and was not particularly pleased by her visit. But I did what I could to, um, plug her up, so she would be of minimal disturbance to my run this morning.
All was well and good until about 9 miles into the run... at which point I could, um, feel her trying to, um, unhinge the plug. What to do? What to do?
So I did what I do best and just ignored the problem, hoping it would just go away. But we all know that ignoring problems does not make them go away.
Let me just say that this little race was not lined with spectators cheering us on the whole way. In fact, there were really only spectators in maybe the last 25 meters or so toward the finish line. And wouldn't you know it? This is where Aunt Flo declared her victory in, um, popping out the plug, so to speak.
Just so you're not confused, I managed to run 13.05 miles while keeping everything contained, and then, right in front of all these people at the finish line, I was horrified as that bloody tampon just fell right out, in the middle of the finish chute.
I had no idea what to do?? What does one do in a situation like that?? Go back across the finish line and pick it up? I did not do that. Again, I did what I do best and ignored the problem. Instead, I rushed right over to the table where they were handing out cups of water and dumped a few right on myself and then made a beeline to the bathroom to make myself somewhat presentable.
So I'll just take this opportunity to apologize profusely right now to anyone who happened to witness that horrifying event. Also to anyone who might have had the unfortunate experience of cleaning up my mess. I'm so sorry. Ugh.