Unicorns, racery, clicky knees, and balloon ladies

I. FUCKING. DID. THE. THING.

Let’s talk about last weekend, shall we?

The 5K was rainy and cold.

The 10K was rainy and cold.

The half marathon was dry, but freezing. Hey, you line up in a corral in a running skirt and two t-shirts and you tell me you aren’t thankful that people are idiots and crowd too close to each other… even in the days of COVID.

Also, I’m now runDisney official! I have not one mylar blanket, but two! Seriously, that was the only thing that kept me from getting hypothermia on Sunday. Those things are magical.

I followed the advice of tons of rD runners and walked the 5K and 10K, with the idea that I was going to save my legs for the half. Not that I’m much of a runner - more of a speed walker who does intervals - but still. A half marathon is no joke.

My pace for both the 5K and 10K was shit, and it’s only by sheer luck that I didn’t get swept during the 10K. But, I think a lot of that had to do with my ability to get in front of the 10K corral. Every bit of distance between me and the balloon ladies helps!

But. Holy shitballs. That half marathon almost killed me. No joke.

I started in the last corral, got pushed to the middle of the pack, and immediately had issues.

My compression socks, my protection from the shin splints caused by road running, decided to keep slipping. My shins were burning and I had to stop several times to pull the socks back up. Precious seconds lost every fucking time.

Then, my aftershockz failed. Which I found completely hysterical because they were the fucking sponsor of the weekend. It was also a Very Bad Thing. I’ve trained myself to keep pace using music. No music, no pace. I almost thought about turning on a metronome app and holding my phone to my ear the entire time, but decided against it.

Then, I had to pee. I’m normally so good at avoiding bathroom issues during runs - I actually train for bathroom avoidance! But, when your bladder is screaming, you stop. At least I made it into Animal Kingdom and got to use a real loo instead of a port-a-loo. Because… ew!

Then, the heart rate monitor on my Garmin kept going off. I wasn’t in any sort of cardiac danger, but fuck, that thing was annoying.

Then, my knee started clicking.

Then, those asshole socks caused major blisters on the balls of my feet.

I was in pain and already wondering how the fuck I was going to survive those last few miles…

And then, the balloon ladies and the Galloway pacers caught up to me. (The balloon ladies are unofficial pacers, they keep to the 16mm required pace. The Galloway ones are volunteers also, but official pacers.)

I was so done at that point. There was limping, and crying, and that hopeless feeling that becomes all consuming. Why was I doing this to myself? How was I ever going to survive the Dopey? I couldn’t even make it 13 miles at pace, how was I going to do TWENTY SIX? IN A ROW?

One of the rD bike riders (sweepers) came over to me and kept pace with me for a while. Asked me if I was OK. Yeah. In hysterical, ugly, tears, I told him that all I wanted to do was cross the finish line. Please, don’t put me on the bus, blah, blah, blah. He told me I was fine. I just needed to pick up the speed a little bit. So I played a game. Every time the balloon ladies got too far ahead, I’d sprint for a bit. (AND OH MY GOD. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE.) I still couldn’t catch up to them.

Finally, just as we were rounding the corner into Epcot, one of the medical workers asked me if I was OK. Yeah. In hysterical, ugly, tears, I told her that all I wanted to do was cross the finish line. Please, don’t put me on the bus, blah, blah, blah. She told me I was fine. She told me she wasn’t giving me a free ride to the finish line because I was so close.

I made it. Under my own power. I even sprinted for a little bit right at the finish line. Got a great air shot.

I couldn’t wait to get my Challenge medal and have my official rD finisher picture taken.

I couldn’t wait to burst into happy tears because I was so tired of crying sad tears.

I fucking did it and I’m still so proud of myself… I’m not sure that feeling’s going to go away any time soon.

Because.

I did the OTHER Very Big Thing a few weeks before Wine and Dine.

 

Will you just look at that?

No. Seriously. LOOK AT THAT.

I have a motherfucking BOSTON MARATHON finisher’s medal.

I’m never going to run a BQ. I know this. But because COVID had originally forced the BAA races to be virtual, I got in.

I ran the 5K, the 10K, the half, AND the full. (Weeks separated each one, thankfully! I’m almost at that point in my Dopey training where I can run the four of them back-to-back-to-back-to-back.)

It took me 9 hours on the treadmill. I was hoping to run outside, but Florida weather can fucking bite me. It was 98% humidity. I have a bad heart. I certainly didn’t need to put that kind of stress on my body, so the treadmill it was.

The medal itself has ‘virtual marathon’ inscribed on the back and the ribbon says ‘virtual marathon’ as well, but 26.2 miles is still 26.2 miles.

But I don’t care. Plenty of ‘real’ runners ran the virtual because they couldn’t / wouldn’t travel to Boston, so I’m in good company.

I finished the Boston Marathon and I have the medal to prove it. So there.

Which now leads me to the next nine days.

It is the Fandom Running Club’s Battle of the Fandoms Season 3, Episode 2. I’m on yet another Star Wars team (Stay on Target. I’ve also been on ‘No One Runs Solo’ and ‘Pew Pew’.) Because we’re in the last few weeks of Dopey training, I decided to kick it up a little bit.

I wanted to earn all my RandomTuesday Fanthropy medals this year since I failed so badly last year. I’m about halfway there. (Cue the Bon Jovi…) I have another 286 miles to go before I can be done. That works out to about 6 miles a day.

Thankfully, I hit my goal for their Fans Run the World event - I have done over 365 miles. I’m at 399.8 (THREE NINETY NINE POINT EIGHT. WHAT THE FUCK, WENDELL?) Had I been paying attention last night, I would have run the .2 miles I needed. Oh well, I’ll make it up tonight.

The plan is to get on the treadmill in about an hour and stay on until I cap. (15 miles is a cap, but I’m supposed to have a 20 mile Dopey training run I moved to this weekend since I did Wine and Dine last week instead.) My feet are still heeling (HA!) from the blisters, so last night was only a 5K. (ONLY A FIVE K. When did I become THAT runner?)

I’d like to cap before Battlecast because I want to hear the shout out. I need to hear the shout out.

Goals.

I’ve even planned out this Racery’s miles.

 

I have 76.3 miles to go if I want to hit what’s scheduled. I’ve already done 3.1, which would put me at 79.4 - that’s the most miles I’ve ever done in a Racery event. I want to hit all those goals because it puts me in a position to finish two more RTI challenge medals. I have a bunch of the Whovian Running Club Challenge medals to earn, but since the PHRC has more mileage in their challenges, I’ve been trying to knock those out first.

Just realised that I screwed up the mileage in the screengrab… the 20th is supposed to be another cap. As I look at this in more detail, I think I want to shift my miles from the Trapdoor to the Phoenix Challenge. The back of my Phoenix medal is autographed by Jason Isaacs (Lucius Malfoy), and I’ve really wanted to display that one. I think I’m stalling because I need to have it framed… I have the frame. I just don’t know how to make it look the way I want it to.

You can see the corrected tracker here.

OK. Well.

It’s treadmill time!

(Thanks for sticking around if you made it this far. I know listening to me ramble on about running probably wasn’t much fun, but this is my blog, so…)