Cursed Realm of the Faceless Ghost

We had a family reunion this past weekend, and on Monday several of us ran the Freedom Half Marathon and 5K. I signed up several months ago because I thought it would be fun to run with the family and because I was sure that my knee would be better by then. Obviously, I was wrong about the knee thing, but at least I had fun.

I knew I was in trouble from the start. It wasn't just my lack of running over the past month. I felt dehydrated, too, and because Baby Elliott had had a few rough nights throughout the week, I was exhausted, too. Also, the intestines. I used the porta-potties before getting on the bus, and again before the start, but I still felt like there was trouble brewing.

When the race finally started (ten minutes late), I set out at what felt like an easy pace and quickly found myself settling into 7th or 8th place. After only a few miles my legs were killing me. It was a weird feeling--my lungs were fine, but my legs could not handle the pounding as we ran down Emigration Canyon.

I kept plugging along as my legs and my pace steadily deteriorated. By the time I passed the zoo and turned onto campus, I was trashed. This was convenient, because it was here that the course started to climb.

I struggled through what would normally seem like a gradual rise but instead felt like a mountain. I think my pace dropped to something like 8:30. And as I climbed, my intestinal concerns came back with a vengeance. I saw a porta-potty at about 8.5 miles, an I realized that if I passed it without stopping, things could get real ugly real fast. So I stopped.

Two minutes later I felt much better, although my legs were still trashed. It was the first time I had stopped mid-race for a number two, and it was pretty much the end of my race mentally. I struggled through the rest of the race at what should have been a mellow pace, eventually crossing the line just under 1:28. Considering I was able to run just under 1:22 at Antelope Island, I know I'm capable of much better.

After the race I met up with Catherine, who had finished a couple of minutes before me. We hung around and waited for the rest of our family. While we were there, we saw Allie and Fiddy. It was good to see Allie again, and nice to meet Fiddy. He's fast. Maybe someday I will be.

More bike commuting. Convenient, since my legs are so trashed from yesterday's race that I can barely walk.

More commuting. It's hot out there.

I was back on the stair stepper tonight for the first time in a long time. Believe it or not, the Samurai has almost convinced me to go ahead and run ("run") Speedgoat despite my complete lack of preparation. It makes sense, and maybe I'll write more about that later, but for now let's just say that I'll have to do more than just ride my bike for the next few weeks if I'm going to survive.

Forty-five minutes on the machine. Not great, but 45 minutes better than nothing.

I'll start with the GPS file today. Can you tell what I was up to?

 That's right. One hour riding the rollers in the basement. What I need to figure out now is how I (apparently) wound up crossing the street.

Today I ran up Battle Creek to Trail 51, down to Dry Canyon, up the west face of Big Baldy, down the other side to the Baldy Shoulder, and then back down to the car by way of Battle Creek. In honor of Hard Rock, about 4,000 feet in ten miles. Which helps explain my 15:00 average pace. That would be fine if this had been an easy effort; unfortunately, it wasn't. These legs and lungs just aren't what they used to be.I'll return to a normal schedule some day, and when I do I'll get my fitness back.