|Sloooooow *sad face*|
Thoughts went something like this:
Don't run fast. Let them pass. Slow down. What the hell, I'm already tired. Why didn't I train? You're really a special kind of stupid. Slow down. Don't think, just run. Just run. Just run. Just.. Shit. I hate running. Slow down! Yeah, you go speedy, I'll pass you eventually. Tortoise, hare, etcetera. Just finish. Am I totally bad ass right now or just an idiot? What the fuck? W.T.F.. Where's the finish? I'm totally el oh el-ing in real life. Why is that funny? That's not funny. Special kind of stupid it is! I hope shark week doesn't start in the middle of this. Oh my gawwwwd, I'm running a half marathon! I wonder if anyone here trained? Don't think about the miles, you still have forever to go. I wish I'd gone to bed earlier. Too late. Just run. Just run. What fucking mile is this? Four? It can't be. Oh. It's only mile three. I really have to pee. Knock it off stomach, no trots right now. What fresh hell is this anyway? Thigh pain? I've never had thigh pain. I wonder if I'm hurt. How did I hurt myself? Oh well, no pain no glory, right, Chelle?! Rising up to the challenge of our rival.. Oh shut up! Jesus I hate that song. What the fuck did I think I was doing here? If you walk, you'll never forgive yourself. Just finish. You need this, Chelle. There's that guy with the tire again, what's his bib say? Marathon, huh? Twice my age, twice my distance, passed me twice. Great, another hill. Who drags a tire in a marathon anyway? Am I impressed or do I totally hate him right now? I think I hate him. What fucking mile is this?! I'm really running a half marathon! There's a banner.. what does it say? Mile seven? Seriously? How is it not ten? Halfway done. No, sister, seven miles is over halfway! That's right, it's a head game, keep motivating yourself. I love running, right? Lies! I'm going to keep up with that girl in pink. Why did I do this again? It doesn't matter, because I'm never running another half! Hey, this isn't so bad. I can still breathe, anyway. You can do this! Maybe half marathons are my distance. Where is the finish line? Look at that, there goes the pacer for the 2:45 half. She's so happy. Nobody should be that fucking happy right now. There's no happy here. I should have brought music. Maybe my head would shut up. Another hill! That banner says mile nine! No, eight? Shit, is that eight or nine? Please, please let that be a nine. Goddamnit! It's only mile eight! What were all those motivational things I read? My thigh still hurts! Just finish. One of these steps is going to be the last before I collapse. Hey, is that Pink Girl? What did she look like? You can do this! Enough with the Gatorade! I really have to pee. That spot on the inside of my knee hurts again. What's that spot called anyway? Who cares, it hurts! Why did I go to nursing school anyway? You. Are. Totally. So. Bad ass. Right now. No, stomach, you can puke when you cross the finish line. Not a second sooner. There's a porta-potty! Not stopping. If I go in there I'll puke. Better to have to pee. What mile is this now? These hills are bullshit. Never again. I will from now on only run in flatland Kansas. Scratch that, I'm never running again. Seriously. Now my toe hurts. Or maybe it's all of them. Am I still running? Look! Mile ten! Why can't I feel my legs? Only a 5k left to go! Fuck, this. What was I thinking? Look at these idiots running a marathon. Twenty-six miles. Crazy. Why not just walk? You're running slow enough. That chick is walking and she's moving faster than me! I wish I could remember what Pink Girl looks like. I wonder if I'm beating her. I hate running. I'm really running a half marathon! Those porta-potties are starting to look good. I'm slow. Just finish. I'm really signed up for two more of these damn things. This is supposed to be fun. This isn't fun. Of course not, genius, you didn't train! Duh! Shut up! You're losing the mind game. Jedi mind games! How am I going to survive the next three point one miles? If you didn't quit in the first ten, you're not fucking quitting now. Just finish. Is that Pink Girl?! Just finish. Just finish. Just finish. Is that a cramp or the trots? I can't stop this close to the end. The end.. The end. There is no end. The doorway to Hell is in St. Louis and I've slipped through it. Mile eleven! I have never run over eleven miles before! Just do it. Went the distance, now I'm not going to stop. Shut UP! You've made it this far, there's no stopping now. No guts no glory, no pain no gain, no Pink Girl, no Gatorade, I'm going to collapse, something new hurts and I can't even tell where it is. If you get the trots or pee yourself or puke everywhere or collapse, it's going to be after the fucking finish line! Yeah. Hell yeah! Why am I not hungry? I'm always hungry when I run. Just run. Weird. I should be starving. Crazy people running. Who does this? Another hill?! Fuck you St. Louis! I miss flat ass Kansas. Can't be much farther. Just run. Finish this shit. Back to the hotel and I'm not moving the rest of the day. Why didn't I train? Why didn't I chicken out?! I really, really have to pee. Is there anybody even behind me still? Is that the finish line? I think that's the finish line. Why is it so far ahead? Run faster. The closer I get the farther it moves! Seriously? Forget faster, go forward. It is the finish line! I can't move any faster. I'm not sure I'm still moving at all. Just cross it. Move. Move. Move. Almost.
Or something like that.
And then, it was over. I found porta-potties, a few times. And then at the hotel I hung around the bathroom.. In order to avoid a TMI (this one's even a bit much for me to type out) here's a link. This happened to me. Oh lord, did it happen! It had never happened before, and it hasn't happened since. I also took Ibuprofen before the half marathon, which likely didn't help the issue.
Anyway, I finished it! It wasn't pretty, it kinda sucked, I'm still sore, but I finished it without walking!
I am officially a Half Marathoner. And I'll be posting more pictures soon!