Saturday, April 12, 2014

My wicked, amazing walk

Well, it wasn't a walk, it was a run, but this is "Christ WALK" not "Christ RUN."  However, it was still wicked and awesome and I am very proud of my run today. Let me tell you why. Apologies in advance for letting you in to the crazy workings of my mind on a long run. 

When I run, especially distance, I have a tendency to compose Facebook status updates along the way. It sounds hokey, but it keeps me going and usually amuses me. It often lets me sort through thoughts and expend some creative energy, while also exercising. I ran 12 miles today. One of my last four training runs for a half marathon. Twelve miles is a LONG time to be alone with your thoughts. Here's a play by play of my thoughts and "status updates" along my journey:

Mile 0: For those of you that have read my book, "Christ Walk: A 40-day Spiritual Fitness Program," you know that I wear hearing aids after I lost my hearing at the age of 12. These suckers get wrapped in Saran Wrap to help keep the sweat out of my microphones. These are some of the disadvantages of being the bionic woman. I've got my water, my "Honey Stinger" energy pellets and I procrastinate thinking about writing a blog on natural fuel sources for long runs (publication TBD). With a little pep in my step, I hit the road with my country music playlist annnnndddddd had to stop since my water bottles were leaking all over my shorts! Mechanical failure!  These things happen. Don't let them stop you. Off I go again:

Mile 1:  I'm feeling strong, I'm wondering what Christ Walk folks want to hear about. I'm wondering what God will say to me. I'm wondering if I could have picked a more perfect day for this. I'm thinking 12 miles is nothing. 

Mile 2:  Hitting the ridge hill. You've got this. I put my hills in first thing in my run to get them out of the way. I'm a little anxious. I remind myself to calm down and breath whether it takes me 2 hours or 3, I am going to knock this run out and anxiety just makes it harder. I remind myself that anxiety diverts the oxygen from my legs. I need to calm down, breath and go with the flow.  I breathe in deeply and I imagine all those oxygen molecules getting pumped to the muscles in my legs. This is my form of visualizing what I want to happen. And it works!

Mile 3:  Hill is done!  This is awesome. I am pumped. I hit cruising speed. The researchers say it takes a mile to get in to your zen mode of running. I say they are full of crap. It takes me three miles to find my pace. And then I feel a little guilty for thinking someone is full of crap.   Oh well. 

Mile 3.5:  Fellow runners!  They smile and wave!  Evidently I don't look like I'm dying!

Mile 4:  If I get shot by a hunter with a shotgun or arrow (I run through a hunting access road), will I be able to call 911?  Will they find me?  I better not get shot,  I'm a runner for Pete's sake. That would annoy me to no end to get shot on a run. If they can't see my bright blue shirt, they have problems. No shooting allowed till I'm done. 

Mile 4.5:  I just called myself a runner. Ahahhaha. Oh look!  There's a police car!  And the speed limit is 30. I better slow down before he gives me a ticket. I am soooo funny. 

Mile 4.75:  I pass the prison cemetery. I pray for the souls I pass. I think of the amazing grace God has for all sorts of sinners. There is a place in God's kingdom for all sorts. 

Mile 5:  oh look, it's the airfield. Treb said to take the airfield to add four miles to my route. Let's do this. 

Mile 5.5-8: WHAT was my husband thinking?  This is awful. I hate gravel. I'm going to break an ankle. Dear God, please don't let me break anything, I am so close to my race!  Mile 6:  yes!  Half way!  I'm going to kill my husband. This is awful. Four miles of this?  Forget my ankles, I'm going to break my knee.  He has totally screwed my run time with this detour. He's going to get an earful. This is terrible. I'm going to kick him.  Did I say how much I hate this gravel?  I don't have shoes for this!  Ow!  Crap!  Damnit!  Oh, sorry. How much would it cost for me to offer to pave this?  I'mmmmmm gonna dieeeeeeeee!!!!! (I will never run the airfield again).

Mile 8.5:  Oh thank God. Asphalt. Will someone laugh if I kiss it?  Holy crap, there's the river. It's beautiful, how did I not notice that beautiful river before this?  Oh yeah, that's cause I was trying not to die out there. Oh shoot, here's the airfield hill everyone complains about. This sucks. Who told me running was good?  Where did the breeze go?  God, please bring back the breeze. Oh there it is!  It's behind me!  God I feel you pushing me up this hill!  Thank you!

Mile 9:  3 to go. Nothing to it. I've got this.  Jesus, perseverance is an amazing thing. I admire perseverance. I admire the runners and walkers of the "Wear Blue" organization. I run for those that cannot. For Han, John, CSM Griffin, Jaimie, Cam. I admire those that have overcome odds. I admire my friend running her first marathon this weekend. I admire people who go the distance and travel the road before them no matter how much it sucks. I admire those that see the blooming flowers in spite of it all. I smile as I think these things. I am blessed by amazing people in my life. 

Mile 9.5: look at that beautiful tree blooming. OMG. It stinks. Lol. Literally, I laughed out loud. Ok, 2.5 to go. I'm not sure my route is long enough. I'll double back if I didn't calculate right, but let's see this through.  Why on earth does the inside of my nose sweat. Jeez.  The body is bizarre. 

Mile 10: two to go!  Pace is great. I fist pump the air!  I hold up two fingers at a passing car. I'm sure they think I'm nuts. Who cares?  I'm running freaking 12 miles. They can kiss my running shoes if they think I'm weird. I chear out loud and start singing. Apologies to those around me. 

Mile 10.5:  dear Jesus, my feet hurt. Ok, this isn't fun. I hurt. I'm just gonna breath for a bit. Why on earth does the song "Done" come on my playlist at these times?  You don't think Kimberly Perry that I know that all I want to be is done?

Mile 11:  YGTBKM. One more mile?  10, 11, 12 minutes?  There's no way. Not happening. And there's the hill to my neighborhood. Why do I always live at the top of a hill?  Why am I doing this again?  Christiane!  Where are you???  Someone come save me!

Mile 11.5:  I've pretty much quit talking to myself at this point. I'm just breathing in and out. It's one step at a time at this point. One foot in front of the other. Take one step and then take another. Im singing George Strait. I'm so close. I can taste it. 

Mile 12:  Done!  I did it!  I cry!  (Seriously, I sob). That wasn't so bad. 14 next week will be a breeze. Time for chocolate milk, Epsom salt bath and lots of fluid. I'm ready for this race.