Saturday, July 16, 2016

Thoughts by the Mile

Here's a taste of the things that rabbited through my brain on this weekend's long run.

Mile 1
It's so early.  It's so dark.  I hate running.  I hate waking up.  I hate everyone.  I hate myself.  Why do I do this?  At least it's not cold.  Yes, that's what I'll hang on to.  It is not cold, nor is it too hot.  And hey, there's Casey's.  Man, even Casey's isn't open yet!  There's just one car there; that must be the doughnut maker.  I salute thee, Morning Doughnut Artist, and shall pay my respects to your good establishment to taste your wares later!  I mean that in the least creepy way possible!

Mile 2
Ooooh, fog.  I love fog.  I don't love mornings, but I love fog.  And I guess I don't hate running.  Exactly.  

Mile 3
Okay, yes, finish this mile, and you're done with the first leg!  Remember, it's not 12 miles, it's four 3-mile runs you just happen to be doing in a row.  12 miles is overwhelming and tiring, but I can do 3 miles, right?  And look- more fog!  And corn!  I definitely don't hate running!

Mile 4
All right, first leg done, time to turn around and run right back.  Second three miles.  Hmm, it shouldn't feel this hard.  I'm only on mile 4, it definitely should not feel this hard already.  And- what was that?  Was that a twinge in my right hamstring?  It was, wasn't it?!  Dang it, I knew that injury was going to rear its ugly head on this run!

Mile 5
Hello, I-35!  My hamstring has calmed down, I-35, isn't that fantastic!  False alarm!  

WAIT.  Is that another runner?  It is.  Coming this direction.  Okay:  Man or woman?  Man or woman?  Please be a woman, please be a woman, please be a- craaaaap, it's a man.  Please don't be a rapist, please don't be a rapist, please don't be a rapist... hello, yes, we are waving, and I have my key sticking out between my knuckles and whoooo-boy my pace is soaring from all this adrenaline, aaaaand... he's past. 

Listen for footsteps.  Has he turned around to sneak up on me from behind?  WHY DO I NOT CARRY PEPPER SPRAY ON THESE RUNS?  Maybe albuterol would still sting a bit if I sprayed it in his eyes.  I'll just whip my head around quick to check-

and we're clear.  Not a rapist.  This time.  Note to self:  BUY PEPPER SPRAY.

Mile 6

Finish this mile and you're done with the second leg, halfway done overall!  Okay, you're getting ready to run past the house, check your supplies:  How are we doing on fluids?  Fine, not even halfway gone.  Do I need my hat?  Nah.  Whoops, I should have started in on my fuel already.  Gummy bears, yay!  Why is this kind so superior to other gummies?  Hmm.  Don't care.  Hey, look, a fox!  Two foxes!  Foxen?  Foxes?  Oxen but not foxen?  Don't care.

Mile 7
Okay, third three-mile run of the morning.  Finally starting to feel good.  No, now don't speed up just because you feel good, this is supposed be long and slow.  Finally, some for-real wind.  I love wind so much.  So so much.  And I love corn.  Hamstring feels good.  Well, okay...ish.  Good for a few more miles, anyway.  Hello to you, car, and to you, truck, and another truck, and another.  Thank you all for not hitting me.  I will wave to thank you for sparing my life.  Yes, hello, I realize it's not yet 6:30 AM and I am out here asking you not only to be awake and outside of your house but also not to kill me.  It's a lot, so hey- here's an extra wave.  You guys are the best.

Mile 8
Hey, look, it's me, I'm running!  Running with the corn.  Hey, remember last weekend when I waited way too long to start my run, and didn't set out until 9:30 AM, and wanted to die for two straight hours?  That was awful.  Okay, check the time, make sure I don't need to turn back early, gotta be back in time for Derek to head out for his golf tournament.  Nope, I'm good.  Another mile and I'm done with the third leg!

Mile 9
Look, a deer hanging out by the corn!  And sun!  Oh, yikes, sun.  Bright sun.  Maybe I should have grabbed that hat.  Who cares, there's my watch beeping, that's nine miles completed, which means Hallelujah, I'm officially on my final leg of the day!  I have run nine miles and have three to go!  Wait, no, my brain does not care for that information, it says, "Nine miles?  If we've already run nine miles, then surely it is time to be done.  No more miles for us."  So, fine, I'm on a three mile run, that's all.

Mile 10
I feel like I feel too good.  Something must be wrong.  I'm about to pass out, aren't I?  My brain has lost all connection to my body.  It is the only explanation.  Keep eating, keep drinking, keep eating, keep drinking.

Mile 11
What is that giant crane doing out here, anyway?  What are they building?  Almost done.  Almost done.  Last bit of gravel, and here's the highway.  Maple cake dougnut.  Maple cake dougnut.  Maple cake doughnut.

Mile 12
Done!  Haha, screw all that three-miles-four-times crap, I just ran twelve miles, and I don't feel like dying!  Oh, except I can't stop moving.  Don't stop, and certainly don't sit.  If you sit, you will never get back up again.  Quick, stretch a bit before all your muscles seize up.  Time for a doughnut and a rest day.  All the hallelujahs.


  1. Bravo! You ran 12 more miles than I could run. It certainly was dark when you started out! I love your photo of your shadow running. And the corn crop looks great.

  2. Okay, at first I was all, "What time do you get up for it to be that dark?!? It's not that dark at 4am at my house."
    (And yes, I do want to know!) Then I saw your goal and have been trying to get my chin off the floor ever since.
    You may have all the doughnuts you desire! Go, you!
    Are you training for a marathon? You clearly have the half-marathon in the proverbial bag.


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