Pre- the biggest Race of my entire life!!!!! (For now)

OH MY WORD the day totally came rushing at me like a bat out of hell. Friday I got a txt from one of my running buddies saying “Are you getting your bib tonight or tomorrow?” I was like Wait!!! What???

Yes the day is upon us and I needed to start getting everything together for 36^th Annual Marine Corps Marathon 2011!!!! (Ok I will stop with all the !!! but gosh darn the excitement, no words to describe the excitement).

So after taking .05 seconds to decide that I was meeting up with him to get my bib I was out the big glass doors. It was 5pm somewhere and had my sights set on the Armory Stadium for some bib action, Marine viewing action and Expo action. All those actions were met. Good lord there are some good looking men in the service.

Couldn't decide which one to use.

Bib and shirt

Yellow is such a good color on and around me

My new fav numbers

At this point I was already 2 days into making every smart decision known to mankind regarding my food. If you are someone that reads most of my blogs you will know I discovered in “7 pounds of salt” that eating is everything. So once I spent way too much money at the expo on water belts and magnets we headed out for a very calculated pasta dinner with minimal cheese and only a beer. Something I have done time and time again. Saturday I had a great breakfast, ate during the day, drank some water, not enough and had my soda. Again this is all things I have done in the past. If you are wondering why these observations are so important… wait for it, I will explain.

My Saturday evening was spent getting everything together for Race Day and facebooking with anyone and everyone that wanted to talk about the race. I could lie to you and tell you it took my 3 minutes to put my things together but nope I could never lie … it took me hours to put together this masterpiece…

Sneakers check, Alka check, warmers check, sneakers check, glide check, sneakers check again.....

I was so proud of myself when I stood back to see my work of art. I had everything out and ready to go including my dollar store leg warmers that I use as arm warmers (by the way, why call your store a dollar store if you have crap that is $5?). I didn’t do anything with the patch but I did use the Alka Seltzer. That is a secret I am happy to share with you… Alka Seltzer is a good idea the night before or morning of race day. With all that done I crawled into bed a 9:30pm like a good girl. 11:30pm got woken up by a lonely puppy (roommates 8 yr old pitbull that I love dearly) then awake again at 2:30am. Ugh all I wanted to do was sleep but around 3am it felt like some evil spirit took my insides, tied them into a huge knot and pulled with all its evil might. Two Alka tablets later and curled up in a ball I was able to go back to sleep. Alarm clock went off at 4:30am….I love running and races but not really sure how I feel about a 4:30am wake up. Especially when I know I did not get enough sleep. Jumped (not really) out of bed, showered and ate 2 whole wheat thin bagels with Nutella. Usually I wouldn’t care about showering but I was about to go running for 5 hours…. I needed to shower. Honestly, I wish a few people on the course did the same thing. Plan was for running partner to drop off Tracy at my place, Covergirl girlfriend was walking over too and then we would do the 1.5 mile walk to Pentagon to get my Texas girl. To Tracy from NY surprise, I am an avid follower of her blog so it was great to have her there with us.      

Girls collected up and out the door we went…..

Race day events will follow shortly, with a side of porta potty devastation...

Trail running, I am in a committed relationship with MCM, please stop flirting with me.

 Saturday I went up to NY for a 45 min Doctor appointment, somewhat kicking and screaming my way up there. I needed to do 18 miles and hated the idea of doing it alone in an area I don’t know but, like any other committed runner I would find a way come hell or high water.  I walked into my girlfriend’s apartment and got straight into my running clothes, filled up my badass Army camel bag with 2 parts Gatorade and 1 part water. Took a good 10 million minutes to figure out how long I should set my stop watch for (I am not fancy or rich enough to have a super cool GPS watch yet) and decided 3:30 ought to do it. Called my girlfriend to tell her my route, conversation goes as such “Hey Brower Power, I am taking a right out of your apartment building and running through White Plains, past Walmart, down to County Center where I will pick up the paved trail and head south. It will be an out and back so if I am not back in 4 hours be worried.” She said. “You should go left out the apartment and go down the hill, then up and then down the next hill and then up and you should be able to pick up the Bronx River pathway there”. Clearly she wasn’t able to comprehend what running 18 miles meant because she was about to send me up and down not one but TWO Mofo hills at the start and finish of my run. Needless to say I stayed with plan A.

Although I loved that she had so much faith in my abilities.     

I headed right out of her apartment and got started. The first 2 miles every step hurt. This long run was going to be the make or break moment of marathon training and things were not looking good so far. I got down to the paved trail and headed south in the direction of NYC wondering how close to the city I would get. About 3 miles in I felt my stride picking up. Pain and stiffness was gone and I was feeling pretty good about going all the way. As my mind started to drift to recent conversations about trail running post MCM, I came around a bend just to stare trail running right in the face. It was like a tall, dark, handsome mysterious man leaning against the wall pretending like he didn’t know I was coming but know full well he was going to seduce me. This mysterious trail came to me in the form of a broken up bridge.

Well, at this point I decided I had no choice but to turn back and go north on the paved trail. I looked back at the trail, and then at the broken bridge. It looked so scary and fun and forbidden and how in the world does any self respecting trail running dreamer pass up a chance to cross a dilapidated bridge where the “DANGER PATHWAY CLOSED” sign is used to cross over. I took another look behind me and decided screw it I am going for it. The rush was incredible and my blood was pumping with excitement as I scrambled my way over. I got over and looked back, smiling from ear to ear pleased at my rendezvous. Able to pull myself back together, I got back to running on the nice paved road, telling myself to stay focused on normal running as MCM is little over 1 month away and getting hurt is not an option. This internal conversation turned into me scowling at myself for acting a fool. Just as I finished up that argument with myself I came up on a sign that saids “END OF TRAIL”. Well once again I had to decide whether to go back or go exploring for more trail. A lady ran by and I asked her if the trail picks up ahead. She said “Yes just go over the train tracks and along pipeline and you will be able to pick up about a mile down the road”. Awesome I headed down the road and come up on the train tracks.  

 At this point I was thinking what sick bastard puts a set of stairs like that in my 18 mile run route. Okay apparently I am doing Bootcamp today too. Up and over the tracks I looked to the left for a pipeline. Thinking to myself apparently we are in Alaska or Russia now cos we run along pipelines. Really this is how we roll?!? (Yes there are moments where there are more than one of me in me). I saw no pipe but I did see a little road along the tracks and I decide maybe roads like that are called ‘pipeline’ in trail runner lingo. 

 As I headed down this little road I wondered if I should be concerned about the area but my mind is put to ease by the slew of BMW’s, Mercedes and Audi’s driving along this road. Nice area along the tracks, go figure.

Nowhere did I find a trail but I did find myself running straight smack into

Bronx River Parkway

.

Once again I am asking myself “what now?”. I can turn back, run 55 miles an hour to the next exit or do my best to run on the 6 inch shoulder while cars are flying by me. We all know I can’t run 55 miles an hour, but again how does any self respecting trail runner dreamer not run her heart out on the side of a 55 mile/hr Parkway. About 200 yards later I made a left off the exit and crossed over the overpass and picking up the trail. At this point I was a good 6 miles into my run which usually I would be pretty tired but my heart was about ready to burst out of my chest with excitement and there was just no stopping me now. Of course the side of me that is committed to MCM and doesn’t want to get killed is yelling and screaming… yet again. This voice was barely done freaking out when I was faced with this…

WTH!!! All I wanted to do was my 18 miles on a smooth path but at every turn I am faced with such exhilarating dilemmas. Do I stay on the straight and narrow or do completely and utterly lose myself in this forbidden adventure. At this point I don’t think I need to tell you what I did.

Feeling basically invincible I was able to run the 1hr 45 min out and it was now time to head back. And of course it wouldn’t be a trail run if I didn’t get a little lost at least once. Found my way back to the paved trail (remember the thing I was meant to be running all along). At this point I had to decide do I go back to race with 55 m/hr cars along the parkway or do I find a different way across. I found a tiny little trail that lead me to the other side of the trail.

Totally gave my screaming self I shit eaten grin because I didn’t do the crazy thing. That grin was short lived as this lovely little path leads me to this…

 Well I do know how to swim but screaming me doesn’t want to run the remaining 8 miles in soaking wet sneakers so we had to find a different way

 

I climbed up over the flooded part only to find myself standing right next the train tracks.

 

Yes! Right! Next to the tracks.

“Mary mother of god! Can this run get anymore amazing?!?” is what I said. 

By the way on the way back I found the spot where the lady said the trail picks up, because apparently not everyone is trying to run 55 miles an hour along the

Bronx River Parkway

.

Do you see where the trail picks up?

Exactly! Who thinks to look for a 1.5ft opening in the guardrail?!?!

I made my way back to White Plains over the tracks,

around tree roots,

through the underwater path

and through another muddy path

and back over that incredible busted up bridge.

With thighs burning (forgot to put anti-chaff gel on), hair a mess, sweating from head to toe, draped over the entrance stairs, panting and cigarette lit I found myself saying breathlessly

“F#ck that was amazing”       

Are you having an affair with other sports while training for a big race?

P.S I am aware we are missing a few weeks but this couldn't wait so I will catch up later.