You Reap What You Sow

Our wonderful neighbors, The McGregors, hosted a party for the neighborhood last night. It was a lot of fun. There was good food (plus a really interesting menu for dinner, check out Katie's blog for more info), all of our wonderful neighbors, and a ton of alcohol. June, one of our hosts, had purchased a bunch of good beer from the New Glarus company and she had some Jim Beam (my favorite). I had probably 5 Beam and diets and 4 beers, plus appetizers and dinner. Needless to say I was feeling pretty good and we had so much fun.

Why am I talking about all the booze and food I enjoyed last night? Because I had my long run this morning, and I have paid dearly for my indiscretions last evening.

Katie and I did not get into bed last night until almost 11pm. Not too late for many people, but when my alarm went off at 4:45am, I knew it was going to be a long day. It was too early to be hungover, but I could tell my head was just waiting for the right time to split open and gray matter to simply ooze out. I popped a couple of Advil and headed downstairs to stretch. "Wait, what's that rumbling in my stomach?" I raced to the bathroom in the nick of time; maybe it wasn't too early to be hungover! The thought of just returning to bed was becoming a serious consideration, but I was determined to get my run in. So I stretched, hit the head a couple of more times, and dragged my tail outside.

I have bumped up my run training ever so slightly (more on that another day, I'm still a little nauseous) and today's run was 5.35 miles. Over the first 400 yards I talk to myself about turning around or cutting the run short probably 40 times. My stomach was settling down though, and again I was fairly determined to keep up with my training. So I pushed on.

It was sort of funny, but my mind just kind of shut off. My iPod was on, but I wasn't hearing the music. My eyes were open, but they didn't really see anything. I just went into autopilot and kept putting one foot in front of the other. I do remember the mile marks, because I kept checking my pace. My goal is to run 7.5 minute miles, and I was doing a good job of keeping up.

When I hit the bike path east of town, I started to get into unknown territory. Literally, I had never run this route before and I was nearing my furthest distance for running. Then I saw a nice pile of poo from some animal on the path and nearly lost it. I did not step in it, nor did I lose my lunch. I did shut my brain off again and just kind of stared straight ahead.

As I neared the finish, I tried to push out a little extra effort, but there was none to be had. My sweat reeked malt and bourbon; not always a bad smell, but not a good one this morning. I supposed my legs were tired, but nearly as much as my eyelids. When I finally crossed the finish line, I looked at my watch, 40:39. Not bad, just about 7:37 per mile; I'll take it.

And I am wasted today. My stomach is dancing around and my head is killing me. I am no idiot. I know that last night was nothing near proper pre-race nutrition, but I feel like I have been hit by a train. I am gonna go vomit in my shoes now. Hopefully you will hear from me again soon.