July 10
Sunday, Jul. 10, 2016 - 15:58

Oh man.

This race is such a big deal and I fucking hate it so much but I also love it and am going to keep doing it as long as I can.

I'm a mess, a complete wreck, tired as shit because I slept maybe six hours on Friday night and not quite two hours last night, head all a-wonky because I would have cried myself to sleep last night if I'd actually gone to sleep - instead I cried myself awake.

Said goodbye to the puppy's roommate and I was okay, but then the puppy was being the biggest sweetheart/heartbreaker you've ever seen, and it broke my heart and I started bawling and couldn't calm down until 2 a.m.

My alarm went off at 3:55. It's disgusting to get up that early when you're not ready for it. I felt awful, puffy-eyed and head full of cotton candy, unhappy gut and unhappy stomach.

Made it downtown, made it to the buses, made it to the starting line, made it to the two-hour pace group, which was led by my friend David.

The race started, I felt fucking awful, just complete shit, worst I've ever felt for a race. I forgot to use my inhaler before I turned in my gear bag, didn't even think of it. Felt my chest constrict each time my eyes welled up with tears, which happened a few times - for some reason big races are always emotional, and I was already a wreck heading into this thing. Had to tell myself to knock it off because I couldn't breathe.

I ate about six Sports Beans in the first half of the race but then my stomach couldn't do anything more than water.

I knew if I lost sight of David I'd give up and start walking - I'd talk myself into it, it wasn't my day, I felt like shit, who fucking cares. But I managed to stay close to him, managed to feel okay structurally even though my head and gut and stomach were unhappy. The miles started dropping off but it wasn't until the last half-mile that I knew I'd be able to finish under two hours. Made it in 1:58, my first sub-2:00 since breaking my ankle.

I didn't feel any better after finishing and I still don't. I started crying in the food tent. I ate, I talked to people, I texted the puppy's roommate, I got a coffee, I visited the bathroom, I wasn't able to watch anyone finish. I made it back up to the finish line but mainly sat on the curb feeling terrible.

I have a love-hate relationship with this race. It's the biggest race of the year here, it's a big deal, there's this inherent pressure built into that that I hate but benefit from. I hate getting up early, I hate not sleeping, I love this weekend.

The puppy's roommate will be okay, his surgery will go fine, he's got one of the best surgeons in the country, and he'll hurt afterwards but he won't be in agony like he has been. I'm glad I got to see him for the couple days I got to see him even though it almost makes it harder again right now. Goddamn I miss those guys.