Today I'm suffering from post-race pains. I feel sort of like my legs are made of extremely painful jello...or since we're in Russia, kholodets (meat jello, it tastes exactly as good as it sounds). What, you ask, caused this great pain to come about? For the past few months I've been dealing with minor foot injuries, and haven't been able to consistently train. Two weeks ago, I decided that two weeks is plenty of time to prep for a half marathon, and signed up for the Весенний Гром (Spring Thunder). After all, it's only half of a marathon, how bad could it be?
This must be one of those cases of temporary insanity, because no matter how you count it, 21.something kilometers didn't feel like half of anything. In fact, it felt like a whole lot of something. The race started out like most, and I ran out like I was doing a 5k, but around 8k I realized that something was horribly wrong. Like a ton of neatly stacked, well placed bricks, I hit it...THE WALL. The wall is a mental and physical realization that you are, in fact, a moron. It's your body's way of telling you, "Oh, you think you're in great shape huh? Wehehell, I've got some bad news for you tubby, you still have 13k to go." At this realization, I significantly slowed my pace just hoping to finish the race.
This general feeling of wishing death upon the past version of myself that signed up for the race (and actually PAID for this!) continued for quite some time. Luckily, I guess, 21k is a long time, and it gives you the time to have many ups and downs during the race. That's an hour+ time for thinking, and re-thinking. When I had about 4k to go I was finally able to convince myself to run faster, and try to catch some of the guys who had passed me in my pitiful state. I ended up taking 9th place, and feeling pretty crumby about my time, but it all goes into the large, overstuffed folder in my brain of 'lessons learned the hard way.' I know now that I need to prepare for half marathons a bit more than I do for 5ks. A lesson that should really be simple, but for the overconfident Bryce, nothing in life comes easy.
This must be one of those cases of temporary insanity, because no matter how you count it, 21.something kilometers didn't feel like half of anything. In fact, it felt like a whole lot of something. The race started out like most, and I ran out like I was doing a 5k, but around 8k I realized that something was horribly wrong. Like a ton of neatly stacked, well placed bricks, I hit it...THE WALL. The wall is a mental and physical realization that you are, in fact, a moron. It's your body's way of telling you, "Oh, you think you're in great shape huh? Wehehell, I've got some bad news for you tubby, you still have 13k to go." At this realization, I significantly slowed my pace just hoping to finish the race.
This general feeling of wishing death upon the past version of myself that signed up for the race (and actually PAID for this!) continued for quite some time. Luckily, I guess, 21k is a long time, and it gives you the time to have many ups and downs during the race. That's an hour+ time for thinking, and re-thinking. When I had about 4k to go I was finally able to convince myself to run faster, and try to catch some of the guys who had passed me in my pitiful state. I ended up taking 9th place, and feeling pretty crumby about my time, but it all goes into the large, overstuffed folder in my brain of 'lessons learned the hard way.' I know now that I need to prepare for half marathons a bit more than I do for 5ks. A lesson that should really be simple, but for the overconfident Bryce, nothing in life comes easy.
I just read the last three posts, and I will file this under a life lesson learned that when I read multiple posts, I forget any and all comments I might have had. So...thanks?
ReplyDeleteAfter all that and you still took 9th place! I surely hope my boys got the Carr running gene.
ReplyDeleteThat's pretty much what compromises my pick-up lines now...'hey baby, are your legs tired? cause mine aren't, i can keep running through your mind for ages.'
DeleteBryce, these are the joys of getting old. I have no doubt you could've run a half-marathon 5 years ago without too much preparation. Now you've got to pay to play, or you'll pay in another way.
ReplyDeleteI'm not old! I do young people things like ride skateboards and listen to rap music. It's you and your Seusesque rhyming that are old.
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