My run went all wrong on Sunday. I chose the wrong clothes, went to the wrong place, started out too late, and didn’t listen to my body. I came back chafed, ill, and scared for my life.
If you’ve been following my blog you are probably well aware that I am training for my first marathon. I am using Hal Higdon’s free NoviceSupreme training plan. Its because I am cheap. I should have spent the $50 or whatever to use training peaks. I digress, but you can tell I have mixed feelings about Hal’s program.
So I felt really sick all weekend. My throat was bugging me
and I didn’t make a huge effort to maintain mental acuity. My training plan
dictated that I run 13 miles this weekend. Technically I’m supposed to run it
Saturday but I’ve been playing it pretty loose. I put it off until Sunday night
around 6pm. I took my temperature because the internet said that I shouldn’t
run if I have a fever. Well technically, it said that I shouldn’t run if I feel
sick below my neck. I had nausea and body ache but I’m so used to ignoring it
that I can’t start listening to my body now. The thermometer read 97.0. That’s
odd, but technically not a fever? I measured it multiple times, and each time
it was below 98.0. I was worried that not running because of that weirdness
would be an excuse. I can’t except excuses in my life. I was worried about it.
I weighed the pros and cons and decided go for the run. It
didn’t help that Alex confirmed that I’m the type of person that pushes myself
and that is something he admires about me or something.
You know that Lake Hodges is the main draw for the Foxy HalfMarathon. I wanted to check it out since
the La Jolla Half marathon is the same day and I’m going to be missing it. I
didn’t put two and two together when I was deciding to head out for Lake Hodges
at 6:30pm. I wasn’t reenacting the Foxy Half Marathon, I was reenacting the
murder of Chelsea King.
I was terrified. I ran across the bridge for an amazingly
beautiful 2.5 miles half way across the lake to a parking lot. I couldn’t see
any trail past the parking lot so I turned around and came back. My vibrams
were both a blessing and a curse. They were probably the reason I didn’t breakmy ankle hopping across those massive rocks in the trail but I also felt every
bump in the road.
Alex called me after the first hour to check that I was
okay. I was fine at that point. After the 20 second breathless confirmation, my
phone died. The trail was scary before. It was even scarier when I couldn’t
listen my to jaunty music. Every dark bush looked like a crouching man ready to
knock me down, rape, murder, and bury me in a shallow grave.
I can’t believe that happened to Chelsea King so recently.
It happened in a well-to-do neighborhood across the street from a retirement
home.
The man that did it, John Albert Gardner III, is still alive
hanging out in prison giving interviews. A psychiatrist evaluated him before
the murder even happened and recommended that this guy should be locked away
forever.
The shorts I was running in were excellent for weekend
lounging but awful for half marathon running. I was getting a chafe in my upper
thighs so bad I started to bleed. I briefly considered taking off my shorts and
running like the opposite of a topless dancer. Yeah right.
Sure Gardner has been put away, but who else has the state
of California left behind the bushes? Those are the thoughts I had while I
tried to run myself out of the woods.
I got home at around 9:00ish. My throat felt bloody awful.
At least I ran my weekly half marathon. I went to sleep that night without
being able to feel my body. It took me 2 hours 35 minutes. Alex said I ran it
slow because I’m feeling sick but I think its because I am extremely bad at
running for my life.