And sadly no, I'm not referring to my beloved alma mater (who, in case you're wondering had 7 players drafted this weekend. Including the Mr. Irrelevant 256th player drafted. Boo-ya).
No, I'm referring to me. I started thinking about how it had been so long since I'd done the 11.2 at Percy Warner Park... and I missed it. I missed the awesome feeling I always got from finishing it. But, in the back of my head, I was thinking... is it too soon after the marathon to tackle hills? So, I texted Vandy Montana for his opinion. Not only did he think it was fine for me to do the 11.2, he wanted in on the action, too.
So, there we were... around 6pm yesterday starting the 11.2. The park was gorgeous. Everything had greened out and there were honeysuckle blooming all along the course. It was awesome and even though it was about 85 degrees, it wasn't unbearable thanks to a nice breeze and the shade of the trees.
Everything was great until we hit a really short, really steep hill at mile 7. Once I made it up the hill my legs were on fire. Which, honestly, is normal for me on that hill. But, it usually goes away pretty quickly... Yesterday, it did not. For the rest of the run, my legs felt like they were on fire and it was super painful. It was everything I could do to keep from tearing up. I had never felt pain like that in my legs. I made Vandy-Montana slow down and then stop with me a few times and walk for a few seconds, thinking that that would help... but, it didn't. And all I could think about was how I still had the worst hill of all to go... 9 mile hill. At the base of 9 mile hill, I told Vandy-Montana to go on without me. He was feeling good and I hate bringing other people down to my pansy level.
I basically walked 9 mile hill. I would try to run for a little bit at certain parts... but, I'd end up stopping to walk for a good while. Once I got past 9 mile hill I was able to run mostly. I think I stopped a couple of times, but by this time it was getting really dark in the park and I just wanted to be done. Luckily the last mile is all down hill, and the further I got down the hill, the lighter it became. I made it finally and felt fine when I got in the car.
Once I got home, I could barely walk inside. I hobbled into my place. My legs were wrecked, my feet were killing me, I was tired and hungry. I got inside and attempted to eat something, but as I stood in my kitchen, I started feeling dizzy and could tell that I was starting to get that black out-y feeling. So, I sat down on my kitchen floor for a minute or two until it passed. Eventually, I made my way to the couch... exhausted. I did muster up enough energy at one point to take a cold bath, thinking that might help my legs some and it seemed to. I was just utterly trashed.
Today, my legs and feet are a little sore, but nothing terrible. I'm taking today off and am only going to run light tomorrow. I'm planning on doing a tough trail run on Thursday morning, that I REALLY want to do, so I'm going to try to nurse these legs back to fighting form before then. I think a couple of ice baths and some light runs before Thursday will go a long way to repair these trashed legs.
I guess sometimes it's good for your body to tell your brain... WHOA... now.. back up there, missy.