It Wasn’t Pretty

I did what I set out to do, but it wasn’t pretty. It was brutal and cold and if you could have  seen my face at the end you’d have had no doubt that I speak the truth.

Next week’s eighteen has to be better. Maybe the sun will shine instead of hiding behind the clouds, which produced a mist that never let up.

Despite my plan to avoid the hills, when running seventeen miles around Raleigh they are unavoidable. I even walked up a few, much to my dismay. I know it’s alright to walk once in a while, but I hate it. It always feels like defeat.

At mile fifteen I asked myself what I was thinking. I’m not lithe like a runner. I am round and slow and felt overwhelming tiredness and pain. My head was in the run more than the rest of me, today. The pain was mental, which is worse than sore feet or aching hips.

My time was what I expected; moving for three hours and fifty minutes. I would have taken a picture of the Garmin, but by the time I was finished I didn’t care about documenting it. My only thought was (in this order) food and water, bath and bed.

So here I am, feet elevated and tucked under a pile of blankets, laptop in the place for which is was named, sweatshirt zipped up to my nose.

Some days you just have to let it go. It’s done and it is what it was. I did what I set out to do, but it wasn’t pretty. Not even close.