Last Long Run Before Blue Ridge

This is it.

Blue Ridge is 20 days away.

I got my last long run in today. A little overdressed, but my long pants are the only ones that will allow me to carry my phone. And my phone has the Strava, which is the only way I have to record my miles. And recording my miles is important, because runners need to prove to other runners that they actually ran.

It wasn’t bad. I felt phenomenal for the first 13 miles. I killed a hill that always ALWAYS gets me. Twice. I’ll go ahead and thank dumbass Peakwood for that.

I stopped and visited with the neighborhood horses. Told them I’d just published a book about animal fostering. And that I was running a Spartan next weekend. And training for a double marathon. Showed them the shirt I was wearing that says “America’s Toughest Road Marathon.”

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They were unimpressed.

Stopped by my aid station (also known as my parents’ house) around mile 15.

No one was home.

Or they were all hiding from me. Probably because they’re all sick of hearing about this book. Or this double marathon. Whatevs. I had more miles to run. I didn’t have time for socializing, anyway.

Stopped to get my kneeling mid-run selfie in to prove it was actually me that ran the miles.

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You can see that I ran 17.6.

I was supposed to run 20.

And I probably could have if I hadn’t been running in my own neighborhood. But I was starving. STARVING. And my neighbors were grilling the most delicious-smelling Easter lunch I’ve ever smelled. EVER. And both of my Achilles were screaming at me (I really need to address that before Blue Ridge). And my house was just right there …  I had a few friends run the Georgia Death Race yesterday. I believe it’s name is self-explanatory. I should’ve sucked it up. A better runner would have finished it out. Or stopped in for fuel and headed back out.

I’m not a better runner.

I’m a so-so runner.

And I wanted food and stretching and sweatpants.

And I couldn’t get the images of cereal out of my head.

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THAT was the most amazing bowl of cereal I’ve ever had. Ever.

I feel ok. Not really fully prepared for Blue Ridge, but ok. I know I could PR on the full easily. The double is going to be a challenge. My feet and Achilles are concerns. My blatant lack of nutritional planning is appalling. And my psychological ability to cross the finish line, turn around, and head right back out towards Roanoke Mountain is questionable, at best.

But I’ve done the training. It’s time to taper. Stretch out the kinks. Get some decent food. And work on my race day photo poses.

 

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