Today was a colossal fail, with a capital F. Out of the gate I hurt and the pain in my legs, knees, ankles shins was so much that by the time I got around the two mile point I stopped on the corner and burst out into tears in front of a lot of people—partly because it hurt, partly because I was so disappointed in myself. Matt being Matt told me to suck it up and start moving. I know it sounds mean but I understand where he is coming from. I need to know how much I can push myself if anything arises during the half-marathon but when I cry, it’s never good.
We started back up and I was able to get a better stride and speed but I never felt quite right. I felt like I was trying to run in someone else’s body. I didn’t feel like me at all and it just got more difficult to move as I continued. My legs were sluggish, I was molasses slow and I felt like I was working much harder than normal just to move that slow. And the pain kept moving around my body. Something hurt at all times and when my hip flexor was screaming at me and I got a side stitch so bad that it felt like someone was trying to rip my oblique out of my side I stopped for the second time ( at about the 4 mile mark). Matt got mad at me at that point, handed me the keys to the house and took off. (Did I mention we had been arguing the whole time about mental strength and pain?)
I tried to walk home and didn’t get very far before my knee started locking on me with every step. So I had to stop for a third time and try and get it to crack. It was there where Matt ran back to me to see if I was ok and offered to walk me home. Which I thought was super sweet. It really touched me that he came back for me.
As we headed up the hill home we discussed what we thought went wrong, what could we do better in the future. I have ideas, and next Saturday I’ll try things again hoping I get this all right by race day.