Saturday, October 13, 2012

one time I ran 19.2 miles

if you're like the bulk of our population, you've likely never endured the joyous, excruciating test of one's body that is the "long run."  the staple of the marathoner's diet, this will often culminate with an 18-20 mile run three weeks before the race.  yesterday was mine. 

i was reflecting post-run (ibuprofen and Papa Johns coursing through my veins) on how eventful these runs often turn out to be.  there are always things which i notice when running a course that i don't seem to notice driving or even on a bike. 

"Take us behind the curtain!!" the masses scream.  "We want to know what it's like to ground your joints to powder whilst listening to NPR podcasts!"  as you shall discover, i am here to please.

below is a very brief recap, then, of yesterday's run:

Mile 0:  ignoring the oddly comforting thought that the next 3.25 hours of my Friday night will be spent running. 

Mile 0.25:  trying to convince myself that the pain in my left knee has nothing to do with any actual physical problem.

Miles 4.5 to 6.75:  on the Poudre Trail just past College, encounter very fast high school running team.  they sprint past me.  the rational part of the brain, the one which carefully regulates speed and energy reserves during a 19 mile run, soon loses out to the testosterone-infused animalistic (and VERY STUPID) part of the brain which exclaims, "It's ON!"  Finally they turn around, and I realize my pace is 2 minutes per mile faster than it should be.

this...may not end well.

Mile 7.25:  smile at attractive stranger as we pass on the trail.  no response.  no friendly acknowledgement or polite social gesture. 

i become sullen and annoyed.  does she not respect how hard i am working here?  because i guarantee you, missie, that your run pales in comparison to mine.  PALES.  whatever happened to common social decency?  what have you done with your life that's so great that you feel the right to thoroughly disregard a fellow human being in this way???

Mile 7.33:  realize that this reaction is quickly becoming psychotic, and turn attention back to This American Life episode on mp3 player.  running does tend to inflame emotions (see below).

Mile 10:  north of town and heading back south, I realize how many people own horses.  call out to horses as i pass by.  wonder why i do not own a horse, let along several horses.  forget that i live in an apartment in the middle of town, not a ranch 5 miles outside of town.

Mile 11:  it is raining.  mp3 player turns itself off and refuses to turn back on.  i have listened to 2 This American Life's, but was depending upon The Moth and Radiolab to get me through the next 1.5 hours.  grrrr.

Mile 11:6:  retrieve Gatorade which i stashed earlier in the day and refill water bottle.  slightly amazed that no animal or person has drank/peed in/thrown bottle of Gatorade.  rejoice and drink sickly sweet nectar.

Mile 12:  as I am running against traffic in the bicycle lane, oncoming car swerves into bike lane and veers off at the last moment.  i yell and flip off the car.  immediately feel bad about looking like a psychopath in running shorts.  console myself with rationalization that running does tend to inflame emotions (see Mile 7.33, above). 

plus, i don't like almost getting hit by large moving objects whilst exercising.  really, anytime.  i rebel against those that would attempt to put me in this situation, apparently, by behaving much the same way those living behind dumpsters behave.

Mile 12.7:  see 6 bucks (the deer, not the paper money variety) in the front yard of a house on Overland Trail.  they are mowing his grass for free.  wonder aloud why i never have bucks in my front yard.  forget that i live in an apartment in the middle of town.

Mile 14.6:  ok, not proud of this one.  i am running on the sidewalk as a car pulls up from a side street waiting to turn.  driver is looking the other way.  do I continue to run forward, knowing that i will be running right in front of a car that may just decide to turn straight into me?  i do continue to run.  driver does, in fact, turn. using super-human skills, i am able to evade left bumper of said car (you should be picturing Neo in the Matrix if Neo was fond of long runs).  driver rolls down window as he speeds away and says, "sorry."  i let loose the fires of hell from my mouth. 

again, something about not liking almost getting hit by large moving objects whilst exercising.

Mile 15:  mp3 player begins working again.  and there was great rejoicing.

Mile 16.2:  Spring Creek trail, heading slowly towards home.  i pass yet another attractive stranger, who does indeed understand the subtleties of basic human interaction.  we smile and wave.  now am the opposite of sullen and annoyed.

Mile 17:  legs are doing this weird burning thing, which is their polite way of saying they'd like to go home now.

Mile 19.2:  run into parking lot.  well, "run" might be a very generous term.  stumble up the stairs into apartment (which has neither horses nor deer out front) and immediately place Papa Johns order.