The Seventeen Miler

My legs hurt. I am whiny. And Brian is hogging The Stick. But, my legs are too sore for me to get up and wrestle it from him. For those of you who don't know what The Stick is, let me show you.















This baby is neat-o. It has rollers on it, so when you roll it on your calves and feet after you've run 17 miles, it is a mixture of pain and relief. It works out the soreness and Brian is currently running it all over his feet and making weird noises. I can't distinguish whether it feels good, or if he's in terrible pain. My guess is both.

So, today, he and I decided since the Excel spreadsheet said we have to do 17 miles last Saturday, and we missed it due to our weekend schedules. So, I took the day off, we saw the kids off to school, and began the placement of our ice chests around town for our makeshift water stops. And food snacks.

Here we are at the beginning of our journey:















































The temperatures were lovely. We kept a good, slow, even pace, and all was right with the world. About 3 miles in, I said to Brian, "This is one of the true joys of life. Out for a slow run, enjoying nature, and having this perfect weather." He agreed. We were running Pollyanna's.

We made ourselves peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and bought some peanut M&M's, along with my usual honey Stingers and bananas. I ate quite a bit along the way, figuring I was fueling my body, and I kept feeling great.

That lasted up until about the 10th mile. The hills started getting harder. We got quieter. And, I had been drinking water like crazy, and had to go to the bathroom, but it meant I had to run faster to get there, so it was a conundrum.

We kept a pretty good pace until about the 13th mile. I finally got to the bathroom. And, when I sat down on the toilet, I wasn't sure I was going to get back up. The muscles were starting to get sore, and my IT band on the left leg was flaring up from running some of the more uneven trails.

I told Brian we were going to have to slow the pace for the last four miles. And, we did. We slowed down, and while painful, I was able to keep the slower pace up for two miles. It felt like every hill was injecting pain directly into my left leg, and I was a bit concerned that I might be injuring it by continuing on.

Around this time, a good round of nausea set in, and I was regretting all of those M&M's and the PBJ's that I ate during the first two hours. I couldn't even drink water without upsetting my stomach. So, the slower pace was necessary just to keep everything down at that point.

Mile 15 came, and another ice chest break came with it. I was so excited. Even though I couldn't eat or drink anything, we only had two more miles to go. Both of us were experiencing some major muscle soreness in our legs, and my left leg was still screaming. I tried stretching it as much as possible during the break, but couldn't get any relief. I really think if someone had offered to cut off my legs at that point for a small fee, I would have taken them up on it. I was hurting much worse than in the fifteen miler.

We set out on the last two miles, and I was only able to run for a few minutes at a time, and then having to walk it. I tried to concentrate on not puking while Brian prayed loudly next to me during each run. He was hurting as bad as I was, he just didn't have the nausea to go with it.

It felt like mile 16 would never come. We kept ourselves on a run/walk schedule to keep going, but every run felt like so much effort. As slow as we were, we kept going, and it wasn't long before the GPS watches showed mile 17, and the car was within sight.

YEAH. We did it!!

The car was such a lovely sight. He's our "after" pictures.

























A wee bit grumpy, very sick to my stomach and in need of some Advil. Stat!
























Brian was in better spirits, but the reason the door is open in the picture is because it took him about 15 minutes to move his leg in order to close it.

Tonight is all about recovery. The left leg is feeling better. We're in our pajamas, and have been for quite a while. We should have probably done an ice bath, but I couldn't get myself geared up for it. And, I know they say not to recover from these long runs lying down, but let me tell you, I haven't left the recliner this evening.

All we need is some Advil, The Stick, some take-out food, and all is right with the world again.

Two more weeks until the 20-miler!

Posted in: running