park to park 1/2 – this race is cursed.

Last year this race brought this happen stance:

the place of “the incident”

My car key was the only thing that survived.  My handheld, fuel – all went down the toilet – literally.  As I mentioned last year, my scream sent dogs running.  I wanted to have some good memories of this race so I headed back to Holland, MI for another go-around.

I should have stayed in bed.

On Friday, I was telling office mate about my race.  He asked when it was and I confidently announced, “Sunday”.  He asked the time and I figured it was 7 or 8 am (standard start times) and proceeded to look it up.  Strike 1.  The race was on Saturday.  I started laughing, it was a bit maniacal, I admit.  How could this be?  Thank goodness I checked.

I set everything out on Friday night; typically I just wing it in the morning so I was proud of myself.  I woke up on time, 5:15 am and before falling asleep I decided I wanted to KT tape my arch, which has been nagging me.  I did so, although I couldn’t seem to get the tape just such.  Nevermind, I got into the car and hit the road.

I got there with a little over 45 minutes to spare.  I would have been there earlier but construction had me a bit turned around.  On my way to packet pick up, I spotted a real live bathroom that I missed last year!  I was overjoyed!  I utilized the flushable facilities and went to figure out my bib number.  It wasn’t there.  Strike 2.  Turns out I wasn’t registered or they didn’t have my name.  I didn’t have a confirmation with me (seriously, I am not that organized) so I rushed to fork over $60 and high tailed it back to my car for my running gear.

In the car, I decided the KT tape was bugging me too much.  I didn’t take it all off, just one of the stability pieces.  Foreshadowing everyone.  I got to the start line, and off we went.  I hadn’t even run .3 of a mile before my stomach was making whale sounds.  Truth is, it had been jumpy prior to the start line but I figured it was nerves.  Strike 3.

I’m not kidding – I even tried talking all sweet like to my poor tummy.

I should have stayed in bed.

I’m conflicted on the outcome of this race.  Some parts went fairly well while other parts are staying with me – and not in a good way.  Here we are:

Good: I nailed my fueling.  Honey Stinger chews are fantastic.

Bad:  My stomach jumped around the whole race.  I wanted to curl up on the road side for a few hours.  Bad stomach cramps, nausea, heartburn – there was no lovin’ in my tummy.  No pit stops but I used a lot of grit to stay on the course.

Good:  My pace isn’t really fast.  But it was steady.  I picked up some SportLegs and tried it for the first time on Saturday.  This stuff is legit – it definitely helped with leg fatigue.

Bad:  My ankle started barking somewhere in those miles.  I don’t remember which one.  Maybe from the ill-fated KT tape job?

Good: I woke up on time, made it to register, used a REAL toilet and managed to keep my panic out of the red zone despite the race hiccups.

Good: I finished!  Considering I’ve done nothing but falter this entire training season, this was my # 1 goal (remember when # meant a number?  the good ol’ days).  I really wanted to enjoy the run and let go of any unrealistic expectations that my body wasn’t able to fulfill.  Done and done.  And I survived this cursed race.

Good:  It was a decent confidence boost for the Detroit marathon.  True, I’ll have to do 13.1 mile MORE and this won’t be pleasant but I’ll cross the finish line.

I’m glad I did it.  Now, a couple of weeks out, I’m still happy about my decision, although my ankle is still filing grievances.  This will be a work in progress and I’m sure I’ll be limping across Detroit.  But I can do anything for 5 or 6 hours.  THEN a doctor can fix me!

I know, I’m a terrible patient.