Hobbler Half

Since completing the Ogden marathon, I've been addicted to running. I made it a goal to do at least one race every month this summer, and so far, I've done just that.

This past weekend, I ran the Hobbler Half-marathon in Hobble Creek Canyon. I had signed up for this race about a week or two after my marathon, while I was still on a my runner's high. Thinking I had plenty of time to recover from my full and then start training again for this half, I took it easy.

Well, turns out I took it too easy.

I've been running just about every day since Ogden, but I hadn't really been training as intensely as I had with TNT. Instead, I ran anywhere between 3-5 miles on the weekdays and then maybe 6 miles on Saturday mornings...if I happened to wake up in time. I never did any long runs and I never did any speedwork.

Then, I went to Powell for a week. I told myself that while I was there, I'd swim laps every day and do Ab Ripper X. I think I swam twice and did Ab Ripper once. By the time we got back from Powell, it was too late. D-day. Time for my race.

My goal was just to make it to the 10 mile mark because once there, I only had 3 more miles left to go. Piece of cake, right? WRONG!

I could barely make it to mile 6!! That's not true. Mile 1-5 were actually quite relaxing...except that I had drunk so much water that morning, waiting around for the race to start, that I had to pee like 19 different times along the way. (And no, I did not have to squat in any bushes. Luckily they had some port-a-pottys along the route.)

So after mile 5, my goal changed: I was just gonna take it a mile at a time until mile marker 10. If I took it easy up until 10, I figured that I would have recovered enough to finish strong through the last 5k. Not so.

I get to mile 10 and decide to pick up my pace. That lasted maybe about a quarter of a mile until I was once again exhausted. I finally made it to mile 11 where a kid with a hose sprayed me as I passed. I thought it would be ultra refreshing since it was like a bazillion degrees outside. Instead, it was miserable! The freakin' demon child blasted me right in the face with the full force of a water canon and then kept spraying me until I was completely drenched. My shoes squished, my hair was sopping, and I'm pretty sure my glasses broke.

By some miracle, I make it to mile 12 without chafing or getting any blisters from my soggy clothing. I rev up the engines and then pull out everything left in my tank. I'm finally about 1/4 mile out and I can see the huge, blue inflatable finish line. And of course, hearing all the cheers and shouts, I get motivated enough to kick it in to gear.

A few meters from crossing the finish line, I spot the Schoenstar, Lollipop, and my best friend Tara and her kids. They're all yelling and screaming and cheering me on. I get ready to sprint the rest of the way when little Lolli comes running out to meet me. She grabs my leg, mid stride, and squeals "I hold you!" meaning, she wanted me to pick her up.

So, as cheesy and as sickeningly sweet as it was, I gathered her up into my arms, with every last bit of strength I had, and ran with her across the finish line at 2 hours 41 minutes...then I collapsed.
I seriously felt more beat up after that race than I did after finishing the full. Even now, 3 days later, my quads still radiate with pain.

Being a procrastinator is going to be the death of me. Next time I WILL train before attempting to run 13.1 miles.

PS
The Kenyan who won the race, Patrick Rotich, finished in 1 hour 7 minutes. INSANE!!!!!!!!!! Though, if I weighed 114 pounds, I could run fast, too! Stupid skinny people.