I ran 23 miles Sunday morning.

Well, technically, I ran 12, jogged 6 and survived 5.

It was 3 hours and 45 minutes of head games and countdowns.  During the first 10 miles, after each marker I’d think “9 more minutes until the next one.”  As the morning wore on I’d think “9:30 until the next one.”  Then “11:00 until the next mile marker.”  Finally, it was “25 steps and I’ll look @ my watch again.”

It’s now Tuesday morning.  I’m heading out the door for a run in a few minutes and have spent the past day trying to come up with positives from this past weekend.  Here they are:

  • thanks to a peptalk from Rick, I realize that I ran a 23-mile hill workout.  Since we ran from 26.2 –> 15 and back (with a little detour @ the start), we had rolling hills in both directions.  I think on;u 4 of the 23 miles were flat, and 2 of those were in the 75 degree sun @ the finish of the run (we started @ 6am and finished around 10am).
  • Except for a jolt of hip pain while stretching @ mile 19, I was basically pain-free the entire run.
  • I was actually functional Sunday afternoon with Michelle and the kids (Big difference from the first 20-miler when all I wanted to do was sit and stare @ the wall).
  • No blisters (the souls of my feet have turned to leather)
  • No chafing (Body Glide!)
  • No puking (seriously, I thought about it @ mile 22)
  • No pain on Monday (I’m crediting the ice bath for that one).  This leads me to believe that when the time comes, I’ll have a little extra in me to run the race that I’d like.
  • I ran 23 miles.  I’m 99% confident that I’ll be able to run 26.2.  I hold no delusions of a good time (literal good time as well as emotional good time), but I know that I’ll finish.

If I spend more time thinking about it, I can probably come up with more positives, but for now I need to get my butt outside for a run.