Welp. Today was a tough one. It was much hotter than I had been expecting. The temperature jumped twenty degrees from my last long run, and the humidity was intense. I knew it was going to be rough when I took Foxy out at 5:30 this morning. It was pitch black outside, and the first time I was leaving the house. I had been wearing a long sleeved moisture wicking hoodie over my race outfit because we keep the house just a few degrees above “I can see my breath.” Add in the fact that the last several miles the sun tried to roast me alive, and it’s no surprise I didn’t PR.
It’s ok. I keep telling myself that it’s ok. I kept saying “it’s a hard, hilly race. I don’t expect to PR.” I was lying. I was hoping to PR. The first four miles felt GREAT. Then it got a little harder each mile after. I walked. I don’t know exactly how much I walked, but it felt like a lot. While I can blame the weather (and it did make a huge impact) I’d be lying to myself even more if I didn’t address my midrace mental breakdown. I know better than to keep looking at my watch- but as it felt harder, and harder, I kept looking. And then calculating. “If I stay at this pace for the next five miles- I’ll still miss my real PR. If I can cut a minute off of this mile, I might make it. Nope. Not happening. What’s the point. If I’m not going to PR, what’s the point.”
My PR is 2 hours 32 minutes. Somehow or another, my watch disagrees. It was the 2014 Naperville Half. My watch shows my PR as 2 hours 41 minutes which was the Naperville Women’s Half this spring. I came in three minutes short of getting a new “watch” PR, and the way I KNOW with absolute certantiy that my mental break is what truly held me back…. I had it in my head that my watch PR was 2:47, and I fought hard for the last three miles to beat it. If I had known it was 2:41- I would have fought harder SOONER and probably beat it.
OH! So- after I got home, I walked in the house and was greeted with a terrible smell. Last week, I cleaned out the fridge- and something must have leaked in the garbage. The garage had started to smell the day before yesterday. Tuesday is garbage day- and we planned on rinsing out the can at that point. It could NOT wait until Tuesday. I rolled the garbage out, lifted the lid to find so. Many. Maggots. It was the stuff of nightmares. I I got some rubber gloves, several garbage bags- and I wrapped the trash bag that was the problem (and the only bag in the can) until I ran out of bags. I looked down- and there was definitely a maggot on the back of my wrist. I sprayed my entire arm full blast with the hose while shouting “get off get off get off get off get off!” I then called a local restaurant within walking distance of my house and asked if I could put a very well wrapped, very stinky bag of trash in their dumpster. I then walked (all the while still in my race gear- salty and sweaty as ever) to said restaurant and waved a friendly thank you at the man inside as I passed the window with my stink bag. He probably assumed I was dumping a body. While I normally would have rinsed off and then taken a post race bath– today required a full silkwood shower.
Should I wear my medals to work tomorrow? Since the real reason I signed up for this race in particular was the Fox medal?