a post for Rob

I have small friends that accompany me everywhere. They pop up at predictable times but in unpredictable places, outwitting all steps I have taken to anticipate them. They roar little messages to my brain during my longest, hardest runs and races. But i do not stop to pay them attention. After I'm home, I swaddle and coo them, but they only go away. They are blisters.

I ran the Ottawa Half-Marathon yesterday. My time was actually a personal record -- only 11 seconds faster than my Montreal time 5 weeks ago.
But hey. It's definitely something to be proud of. Because this race took just about everything I had out of me; I pretty much collapsed at the finish line. I had set a goal of 2.00 (almost 3 minutes better than my last time), and was fully a minute better than that pace until the 12k mark. To have run that far that fast in a 21k race is not shabby. At the 14k mark my sister joined me, and it was all downhill from there, literally and figuratively.
Reasons why I couldn't keep up the 2.00 pace: the heat (20C + mucho humidity + hot sun), possibly too much exertion in the last week, lack of long distance training, lack of sleep, not used to ingesting fluids in those quantities while running (hence stomach sloshing and cramps), and lack of mental toughness.

It's not hard because it's 2 hours of running; it's hard because it's 2 hours of racing. 2 hours of your mind pushing your body, and then finally your body fighting your mind when your mind just wants to stop. I was thinking well, if I faint, drop and skid to a stop, the worst that will happen is that I'll have ugly raspberries all over my arms, face and legs.

Saturday night we went contra dancing. Yet again fun above and beyond all expectations. It's the new, underground, dirty heroin.

And I caught up on my taped episodes of Gilmore Girls. Curt said "I'm comin' for YOU", Paris sang "I'm walkin' on sunshine", and Taylor said "Fitty Cent". Good times, bad ending.