Saturday, 1:45am - leg #17
I sent this email after letting the disappointment of the first run wear off, "I'm fine. Our van is resting now. Stephan kicked m-fing ass and ran his 10 miles in 8 minute-miles- a full minute per mile faster than predicted. We have until 10:50pm to rest before we start again. This run is only 3.2 miles for me. And it's much cooler. Like 50 degrees.
Problems: I was so upset I'm having a hard time eating anything. I also should be sleeping right now like everyone else... but I'm too nervous.
Good things: we went around and talked to like 100 people [about DetermiNation], and gave out like 50+ "In Memory of" ribbons, and got names and emails from 10 people so far. Our goal is 50 so we are 20% there.
Ok. Trying to sleep again. Love you!"
Finally, the heat of the day subsided. One runner tells me not to be fooled, running still warms you up quickly. Just before the last exchange I opened a can of ravioli and downed it, "like a hobo," without a spoon, straight out of the can. It's the closest thing I'd had to a meal since the 6:00am McDonalds burritos. Since then it's been trail mix and bagels. For good measure I chow down on a Snickers bar. You know, for the sugar.
Before getting to the exchange I bury my head in Stephan's chest and let more tears loose. Why did I sign up for this? How did I totally forget that I'm not a strong runner? 10:30 minute miles?? Only on my best day. Why did I think this would be ok?
Stephan knows what to say, "Shut up and go run."
So I do. I try to think about what makes running so easy when I'm at home: singing along to music, knowing my landmarks, thinking about everything EXCEPT how many miles are left. It works, although I don't have the speed I'm used to, at least I never crash.
Mile one takes exactly 11:00 minutes. It's pitch dark, so there isn't anything for me to look at. The 11 minutes doesn't bother me. I just have to keep on my feet.
Mile two is 11:04. Fine. Great. Whatever. Just keep singing. Only two runners have passed me so far.
Mile three ends after only 10:53. I calculate it- I'm now just under an 11 minute-per-mile pace. Great. Awesome. I win. The run is over before I know it. I sprint to the exchange and toss the baton casually at Stephan.
I write this email at 5:45am, "Night run went much better. Very cold (45 deg) so getting to the start was painful. But the path was good, lots of trees. Some hills, but not too bad. A few people passed me. But mostly I was just singing along to good music and focusing on the road right in front of me. I pretended to be running at home and pictured where along my street I would be.
Anyway, the run was good. Right at 11 minutes-per-mile. I run one more time this morning and then we're done!"
Leg 17 miles: 3.78
Leg 17 time: 41:04
Leg 17 pace: 10:50 per mile
Total miles: 10.65
Total time: 2 hours, 1 minute
Average pace: 11:25 per mile
2 comments:
Good job getting back on the horse! How do you know where to go? I keep hearing of people doing their night-time Ragnar legs in the dark and getting lost!
They publish the route both online and in the "Ragmag" that each van keeps. Also, they have the course marked with directional signs. They're actually easier to see at night because they have blinking LED lights on them. It's nice to have something to stare at and aim for in the dark.
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