Thursdays Make Me Happy!

As I have mentioned in a previous blog, Thursdays are simply the best for those of us who work in the local community college district; we work four 10’s in the summer and it represents the end of our work week.  I have really come to enjoy our three-day weekends, this summer, for the mere fact that I have three solid days that I can really kick my workouts into high gear without the fear of having to shower and rush off to work.

They're pretty BA!

But, as I explained to my workout buddy, Matt, this Thursday – Thursday has become, for me, much more than the end of the work week.  Rather, it’s the day he and I head out to one of the trailheads in the Ahwatukee Foothills.  This week, however, was unusually exciting for me – I had invested in new Trail Running Shoes – the Brooks Cascadia 7’s!  We discussed the fact that we really needed trail shoes because I want a lot more stability on the rocky, uneven terrain.  Put simply, I really do not want to sprain an ankle or a knee while enjoying the hard work out! 

We hit the trails at lightning speed, agreeing to really push it to 90% for the entirety of four miles.  I was DYING – DYING at mile 3 and just wanted to walk.  My footwork was just fine, my legs felt decent, but my heart felt like it was going to come out my nose, I was working so hard!  I made it – and while a 9:56 pace is lame for a road run – I’ll take it on the same trail that has seen 10:30’s and 11’s in the weeks prior.  While fully satisfied with our runs, we were wiped out and it felt great!

Two Proud Trail Runners!

My two favorite riding buddies!

Friday morning, Jim agreed to meet us for a ride.  I was really proud of my effort and my obvious progress on the bike, this week.  Jim even commented on how much I have improved as a rider as we finished our ride.  The hills and long straightaways have defeated me in the past, but this was the first time the guys trusted me to lead them out for a couple of miles.  I was super excited and super nervous.  What I realized was that I CAN actually hang with the big-boys!  I was on cloud nine as we continued on our 20+ miles ride! 

This also leads me to explain that I have become somewhat obsessed with cycling.  I have never enjoyed anything as much as running – EVER.  And, sadly, I spent the better part of this week thinking about the new bike I am itching to purchase: the Specialized Ruby Apex Compact.  I know I bought my Raleigh Capri 2.0 less than a year ago, but I am starting to think I have already outgrown it.  I do love my current bike – for many reasons.  It’s light and fits me really well (I am very short in the torso and long in the leg – for someone 5’2”, that is).  But, I have now read every review on the Ruby and watched every video related to its technology and I cannot stop thinking about how I am going to make it happen. 

Yeah, I think the colors are pretty awesome, too!!!  =)

I <3 Miss Loretta!

Anyway – enough about my obsession.  When I got home from my ride with Jim and Matt, I was relaxed – thinking about how I would be able to enjoy an evening with two of my closes friends, and then sleep in on Saturday.  However, as luck would have it – my great friend, Loretta, asked if I might do a 10 mile run with her on Saturday morning.  And, because I can never pass up a running opportunity with a friend – I treated Loretta to an awesome, yet painfully hilly, run the next morning.  (We only did 6 – her treadmill workouts didn’t quite prep her for the hills of Ahwatukee, but she really rocked her run!)  Loretta’s times have shown incredible improvement over the course of the last 6 months – and much like Matt really pushes me on my runs, I knew I would be good for Loretta.  I think she would say so, as well!

This morning I joined Matt for a tough, hill ride through the San Juan pass of South Mountain.  I was defeated by San Juan months ago on another long ride I did with Matt, but I was determined to make it the whole way out and back, this time.  Matt had mentioned that he might do the 7 mile route twice, so that he could get a 20-ish mile ride in – but I wasn’t convinced I could do it even once without dying, so I remained quiet about whether I would attempt a second round. 

As luck would have it, I was feeling pretty good, this morning.  I’d gotten 7 hours of sleep and didn’t feel worn out from my run the day prior.  Matt told me he’d stick with me for the ride.  I don’t always know how I feel about that, as my mind considers the fact that he won’t get as decent a workout if he’s constantly hanging back for me.  However, I was willing, this morning, to allow him to teach me about San Juan.  (And, I think Matt really understands my feelings about hanging with another rider – so he’ll keep a comfortable distance when he knows I am struggling a bit.  It’s important, to me, to be able to get out of the tough spots without anyone around me to humiliate me.)

After we finished the first 7 miles, I yelled at Matt, “Hey – I can totally do this again.”  Matt gave me a high fist pump and we went for round two.  Those last couple of miles weren’t pretty, but I left everything on San Juan, this morning, and I felt great about it.  As we finished out the last few miles to our cars, Matt (much like Jim) made a comment about how good I looked on the bike, about my confidence on the bike and his overall pride in watching me ride.  I appreciated the comments – more than he might ever know.  I am working so hard and I am hopeful my improvements (even if marginal each times) are noticeable. 

Half Way up San Juan the first time out!  Sunrise, baby!

..sigh, I always cut off part of his head.

The tri is a mere 3 weeks away and I definitely feel ready!  I am sure I’ll do another brick, next weekend, so get ready everyone!  And, hey – thanks for reading.  Oh, and feel free to contribute to the Mer-Ruby-Fund!

Nature vs Road...

"Methinks that the moment my legs began to move, my thoughts began to flow... Only while we are in action is the circulation perfect." -Henry David Thoreau

I saw this quote on my friend Kris’ Facebook status shortly after I had completed my workout, this morning, and I thought it was kismet that she posted it.  See, on Thursday of this week, Matt and I met at the trailhead in the foothills of Ahwatukee and headed out for a 6 mile trail run.  Matt took the lead, as usual, and we agreed to simply meet in the middle somewhere and again at the end.

Matt and me, post-trail run.

As we headed out, I couldn’t help but appreciate everything around me.  The sun was about to rise over the mountains, the rocks were old and warn from those who had passed before us, and the weather was sunny and already 80 degrees at 5am.  I had explained to Matt, some time prior to this run, that when I think of him, I often think of Thoreau – because it is Matt who always talks about his appreciation for all things in nature.  And, on this particular morning, I was living and breathing Thoreau – thinking about how much greater (than me) was all of the natural beauty surrounding the run.  Every moment I placed my foot on the earth, I was cautious and aware, as the rocks can be large and the sand can be deep.  The trail run is always greater than me – and it certainly defeats me in places, too.  It gets my heart-rate elevated to a point where I want to quit, but my mind convinces me to stay the course and that, like all things, I can push through this pain, too.

By the time Matt and I had attempted the trail run on Thursday, we’d already exhausted ourselves with intervals on the bike the morning prior.  So, as we approached the trailhead, we knew this would be one of our toughest runs to date.  But, we both finished – Matt a few minutes before me (and potentially a couple of tenths longer than me, as well).  I have much to work up to (still) when I join Matt for these weekday runs.

This morning, however, it was all me.  Jim, Jacqui and I are training for our next Triathlon.  It’s exactly one month away, so it’s about time to integrate bricks into my training schedule.  I prepared my tri-bag, last night, and even mixed my bottle of water with electrolytes, for my bike.  Too many times in the last couple of months have I hydrated or replenished poorly.  I simply was not going to let that happen, this time.

When I arrived at my gym at 5am, I was dismayed to see the indoor pool was “CLOSED”.  So, with trepidation I went to the outside pool to see if my day would be ruined.  Nope, I was allowed to use the outside Olympic pool, so the smile came back.  The only issue with the outdoor pool is that there is no time clock and my stopwatch was in my locker a bit of a distance away.  I would simply chunk out the 1000 meters and approximate my times.

When I got into the pool the analog clock on the wall said 5:17am, and when I finished the 1000 meters it read 5:41am – so ok.  I can take it.  I hustled into the locker room as swiftly as possible, considering the distance from the outside pool.  I didn’t bother to dry off because I knew it would be hot in Phoenix, so I threw on my bike shorts, running shoes (yes, I still have baskets on my bike – no clips yet), and waist pouch, and headed to my car.

I felt like it took forever for me to get my act in gear, but it actually wasn’t that bad.  I was on my bike and headed east in no time.  It wasn’t even 6am yet, so the traffic on the roads was really minimal.  I was hopeful it might also mean that I might catch most of the stoplights green as I traveled.  I wasn’t that fortunate, but I was moving along far faster than I have on any brick or tri prior.  My bike clock read “19-20” within the first mile, but as the next few minutes wore on, I was safely pacing around 18.5 mph.  In fact, there was a speed trap with a clock at about the ½ way mark, and as I rode by it read “18” in big flashing yellow.  I was all smiles.  As I turned back toward the gym, I was still clocking times between 18-19 only slowing for stoplights – hoping they’d change in my favor.  And, sure enough, as my watch beeped 13 miles, my AVS was 18.1 – YES!!!!  My best time to date!  All this training with Matt and Jim on the bike is REALLY working!  (The last tri had me at just under 17 mph, so this was pretty exciting for me.)

Going back to my car and tossing my bike in the back took no time at all.  I quickly stripped from bike shorts to running shorts in the parking lot and headed out with nothing more than my shades and my music.  I had hydrated while on the bike – with both electrolytes and water – so, I was ready to push out the last 3.1 miles on foot.

Sometimes, I can't believe I can run in a swim suit!

For the first time EVER my legs didn’t feel weird at all.  I felt ready to run.  I was easily pulling 9:20’s in the first mile, not even thinking about the warmer temps.  (The wet bathing suit was helpful, as well.)  Annoyed that I had to wait for the light at Priest and Elliot, I took off for the next couple of miles determined to keep my pace under a 9:30 – and I did.  Most of mile 3 was a sub-9 and I was soooo pleased.  I had a light to deal with at each mile, which jeopardized my times, but I’ll take a 5K in 28:32 any day – even with the lights.

I had done it.  By 7am I was done and feeling amazing.  I didn’t leave everything on the roads of Phoenix, this morning, so I know I can push harder the next time.  It’s sometimes hard to gauge how hard to push in the swim or the bike, hoping to save energy for the run – so this leaves me pretty excited for my next brick!  Tomorrow, I rest and reflect.

Lastly (and completely unrelated) – I am sending out Happy Birthday notes to three of my favorite people!  D – because you’re alive and that’s always worth celebrating!  Tom – because I <3 and miss you terribly!  And, Ron, because you’re going to serve me beer, tonight, and you’re 10 years my senior – happy 50th, my great friend!  

Mood, Music and More...

I realize, this morning, that my blog is only really superficial – that the things I really want to say most of the time I have to hold back.   I have spent the better part of this past weekend thinking about my workouts and my friendships and listening to a lot of new and old music.  I think some weekends just need to be like that.

One of the gifts of working for the local community college district is that we have Fridays off for the summer months.  So, most of us spend the week figuring out how to get to 6pm on Thursdays.  (All my work friends are reading this, nodding away.)  This also means that workouts during the week for the summer have to be at the absolute crack of dawn – which means my alarm goes off at 4 or 4:30am every morning of the week to accommodate my workout schedule.  As many of you sit there aghast, I can only smile.

Matt and Me - post Tuesday 6 miler

After taking a day to recover from the ½-marathon-de-vomit, Matt IM’ed me and asked if I thought I might be up for (what has become) our usual Tuesday 6 mile run.  “Oh, I am running, tomorrow!” I told him.  And, although it wasn’t my greatest effort or time, we had a great chat about the San Diego half and our plans for future races – something I can discuss ad nauseum.

Wednesday, I awakened at 4am and headed to the gym to swim 1800 meters.  I think I was still in recovery mode, so while my times in the pool were nothing to get upset over, they were certainly not my best.  I have come to realize that most people cannot swim.  I know I was kind of one of those people back in January, but I see the same people getting into the pool at 5 or 6am nearly killing themselves in the water.  One guy wears flippers (on his feet) and is always so pleased that he can beat me down the lane.  And, he ALWAYS chooses a lane next to mine.  The difference between flipper-boy and me?  I can just continue swimming…no stopping…until I am done.  This week he saw me finish my swim and waited to chat with me at the end of the pool.  “So, is that a radio or something?” observing my H2O audio device attached to my goggles.  “iPod player” I told him.  His final comment, “well, seems like it helps you stay focused and fast.”  At first, I was kind of offended – why wouldn’t I just be focused and fast (unrelated to the music device)?  But, then I realized, he needed to say that – to make himself feel better about his swimming.  I can appreciate it on some level.

Before Matt arrived, pre-dawn

At 5am on Thursday, I met up with Matt for a 5 mile trail run.  The last trail run I attempted was after Matt, Jacqui, Aaron and I had attempted the 20 mile Usery Pass.  I died.  Needless to say, I felt like I was much better equipped to handle a tough trail run, this time around. 

Mid-point, sunrise behind us

As Matt and I headed out, the sun was just rising over South Mountain.  And, as I have mentioned several times in this blog, Matt pushes me to be a better runner each time we head out together.  Thursday was no different.  We hung together for about a mile and then I decided I needed to pay closer attention to my footing and, wanting Matt to get a decent workout (for himself), I waved him on and said, “I’ll be right behind you.”  At one point I glanced at my watch and it said 2.38 miles, so I knew I was almost to the ½ way point and would be seeing Matt again, soon.  Sure enough – at 2.5 miles, I could see him coming back towards me.  I made him stop, “Wait, I have to have a blog shot as the sun comes up over the mountain.”  Anyone who knows me, knows I am loathe to interrupt a workout, but I was never so inspired on a run in my life.  It was so hard climbing up and running down, but then to see the sun rise as I crested the tallest and longest of all of the hills – I simply had to have a picture.  Matt simply smiled; we were off again within a minute of taking the picture.  There may be nothing I love more (now) than trail running.  I cannot wait to do it, again!  (Thursday….PLEASE, Matt?!)

Finishing the 27 miles

Friday morning Jim had agreed to a 20 mile ride with me, followed by a short run – just to get our legs back into shape for our next Tri (July 15).  To our surprise, Matt decided to meet me at my house at 5am and we headed to Jim’s together.  Of course, this gave Matt a 7 mile warm up, which meant by the time we picked up Jim, he was ready to kill us.  Jim hung with Matt for a few miles, but after a while, Jim and I did our own thing and Matt peeled off to hit the hard hill of the Desert Foothills.  We never saw him again.  But, Jim and I had a wonderful time telling stories of our vacations – he in Africa and the UK and I in Europe.  By the time we got near his house again, Jim confessed that he wasn’t interested in doing a short run.  I was fine with it because my ankles were still recovering from the trails the day before.  When I reached my house, my watch read “27 miles” and my bike computer said I’d maintained an AVS of 16.7 – pretty average for me. 

Brent and Mer - sweat on the lens, oops

Saturday morning, my great running friend, Brent, was at my house at 5:30am ready to run.  We headed out and Brent was EXACTLY what I needed.  We laughed, we shared personal adventures and we smiled our way through a great 10 mile run.  It’s so nice that he and I can always pick right back up where we left off after the last run.  I feel so fortunate to have him (and his amazing listening skills) in my life.  I looked up at one point on the run and thought – well, jeez, I have run 33 miles this week and I’m not even in Marathon Training, yet! 

This morning was fairly uneventful.  I was supposed to do a long, tough 36 mile ride with Matt through the Usery Mountains, but got a sad-face-email from him on Saturday telling me he had an obligation on Sunday that would prevent him from doing so.  So, when I rolled over at 5:30am, I got out of bed, changed into my suit and hit the gym.  But, I was tired – and I’ll confess, a little down about the whole thing.  I find that (lately), I get so worked up over my training, that any amount of deviation puts me in a relatively foul mood.  But, I pushed through 1500 meters blaming Matt for my crap mood. 

Sadly, I came home and took my mood out on one of the most important people in my life – and for that I am remorseful.  I know he forgives me – and for that I am grateful.  Thanks, D. 

…now, back to my music.

Couple extras -- Marcy's going away Happy Hour Friday night.

Going to miss this gal -- she's simply the BEST!

The San Diego 1/2...one for the books!

What a crazy week it has been!

I came home from my trip to Europe and got right back into my workout routine – morning bike ride on Monday, 6+ mile run on Tuesday, 2000 meters in the pool on Thursday – all while horribly jetlagged from the trip.

And, Friday morning, Anne was at my house (with baby Lyla) at 5:30am to get us to the airport for our San Diego ½ marathon weekend.   Some history here – Lyla was born the day after Thanksgiving 2011, and, for the next month, Anne complained incessantly about how much weight she had gained with her and how fat she felt.   So, without hesitation, and as a Christmas gift to Anne, I registered Anne (and myself) for the San Diego ½.  I figured 6 ½ months might be enough time to get her in the condition to run a ½ -- and that naturally, the weight would start to come off, as a result.

Fast forward 7 months, Anne and her husband decided they’d make an extended weekend out of it and rent a house on the beach, which worked out nicely for me.  As soon as Anne and I arrived in San Diego we were excited.  Anne had worked so hard for this weekend and she was looking so good – over 50 lbs shed from the time she’d given birth.  When she’d first started training in January, she had a goal of finishing in 2:45.  Originally, I had agreed to pull her through it, if she really wanted the 2:45, but as time wore on and managing babies, feedings, illness, bizarre sleep routines and whatnot, she told me to run my own race and that she would simply hope to have times under 3 hours.  (Her last ½ marathon in Nov 2010 was 3:15).

After landing in SD, we took this quick shot at the SW gate.

As luck would have it, Anne’s son, Sean, and Lyla were recently getting over some stomach virus – which John so eloquently named “The Butt Bug”… so they were moody and Lyla didn’t sleep at all on Friday night.  Needless to say, I was worried for Anne’s run on Sunday, but John agreed to be on baby duty Saturday night into Sunday, so I was a little more at ease.  
Saturday morning, however, Anne and I went for a lovely 3 mile jog along the beach.  There were thousands of people doing the same – many of whom, we could tell, would be running the ½ or the full the following day – some proudly wore their race shirts while out for their pre-race jog.

On the beach - so nice!

After a fabulous pre-race dinner of steaks and angel hair pasta, I crawled into bed at 8pm and said goodnight to Anne, John and the babies.  The race was to start at 615am, so Anne and I needed to get up at 330am to be ready and out the door and to the shuttle by 430am.
 
But, at 1am, I awakened in a pool of sweat with a wretched stomach ache and raced to the bathroom.  “Oh, no…the butt bug!” was all I could think.  I laid back down, feeling ok after my bathroom visit, and feel asleep until 3am when I awakened again with the same sweats and the same race to the bathroom.  Now, I was feeling nauseous and just wanted my last 30 minutes of sleep – praying it would pass by the time I woke for real.

My alarm went off at 330am and I could hear Anne in the kitchen.  I slowly walked out of my room as she told me the coffee was brewing and would be ready shortly.  I was feeling awful.  The first words out of my mouth were, “I think I caught the kids’ stomach thing.”  Anne just stared at me with a huge, “Oh no!” written all over her face.  “Did you vomit?” she asked.  “No, not yet, but its comin’” I told her.  And, within moments of uttering those words, I was back in the bathroom hunched over the toilet seeing every bit of energy pour into the toilet.  (Sorry!  You chose to read my blog…its only going to get more entertaining from here, trust me.  Feel free to scroll though the photos and be done, if you want.)

We had a quick conversation about “what was I going to do”, but goddamnit – I was just going to dope myself up and take some Imodium.  Maybe that would hold me.  I have done dozens of these marathons, at this point, I knew there would be medical tents along the way, if I couldn’t do it.  But, I have to admit, I had visions of that guy…yeah, you know the guy.  I did NOT want to be him!

I KNOW!  Click on it to really see the horror!  (No, I don't know this guy.)

So, somehow, we got to the starting line at 5am, and I was worried.  I was trying VERY hard to be upbeat and excited for Anne, but the entire time I was wrecked – all I could think about was not getting sick again.  I was in the porta-potty four times before the race, attempting to eliminate whatever might have been left – and I was CERTAIN, by the way, that there was nothing left.  This also caused me enormous stress because WHO runs 13 miles on a dehydrated, empty stomach?  (Raising hand)

Pre-Race Shuttle - I don't look so bad.  

I texted Matt and Kris to let them know this would NOT be my race.  I also didn’t want them to worry if my times seemed odd.  All I wanted to do at this point was cross the finish line – even if it meant crawling.

The race started and the energy was amazing.  I was determined not to let the stomach flu get the better of me.  The first several miles seemed to fly by – I was feeling ok, my stomach wasn’t achy and the humidity in San Diego helped a great deal.  I simply wasn’t feeling as dehydrated as I would in Phoenix.  By mile 6, I was still feeling ok, well enough that my times were still around 9:40 (average) so I was really hopeful.  I had electrolytes in my waist pouch and there was water and Gatorade along the route, but I have to admit, I was too scared to take anything.  I was deathly afraid of it coming out one way or another and not being able to finish the race.  I also want to note that this race course is beautiful.  I have heard people complain about the slant of the highway and the sharp hill climbs from highway entrance to exit, but honestly, this may very well have been the greatest course I have ever run.

By mile 9, I realized I needed to stop and take some Gu and Gatorade.  I did so, and immediately I started to feel funky.  I walked for a minute just to let it all settled and picked back up my pace.  And, then things started to get ugly.  My bladder was immediately full –which of course made no sense.  And, by mile 10 my bladder just let itself go – and now I was humiliated on top of everything else.  I ran through the sprinklers provided by the race shortly after the incident, but it was what it was.  And, if you’ve never run/completed an endurance race before – don’t judge.  You have NO idea.

I walked and ran through mile 11 and was afraid to take any more Gatorade.  I grabbed water where I could and just tried to stay focused enough to finish the race.  I think I walked ½ of mile 11, but by the 12 mile marker I was determined to get the damn thing over with.  The last 2.5 miles had been awful and I was becoming delusional, so I just tried to stay focused and get through it.  A gal tapped me on my shoulder right around mile 12 and said, “hey neighbor” and moved on.  I was wearing my Phoenix Marathon shirt – so I knew she must have been a fellow Phoenician.  As I looked at my watch (12.65 miles) I glanced up and saw the Phoenix gal walking and mumbling at herself.  I smiled, tapped her shoulder and said, “Come on Phoenix, let’s finish this thing together.”  And we did.  We didn’t say much to each other and I didn’t tell her I was sick as a dog, but we crossed that finish line with what smiles we could muster.

I could see the Medical Tent as I crossed and knew that’s where I was destined to go.  The poor guy at the tent was icing someone’s calf when he said, “what can I do for you?”  I managed to eek out something like, “I have the flu, please help me get something in my system.”  He stopped immediately and handed me some Gatorade (Aaaack!) and some salt.  “If you get nothing in your system, eat half this pack of salt.” And off he went.

I knew I had told Anne (and her friend, Dave) I would meet her at the letter “A” in the family reunion area, so I struggled to make my way there.  I grabbed Gatorade, water, a banana, clementines, a popsicle and a protein bar on my way out of the recovery area, hoping something might appeal to me in time.   And, after finding the reunion area, I plunked my ass down and took out my phone to get updates on Anne’s race.

I was shivering beyond belief – the skies were cloudy and Sea World (where the finish was) had winds of 20-30 mph – and remember, I was soaking wet from the humidity, the sweat, the sprinklers, etc.  It was a dreadful combination.  I felt sick.  I mixed some of the water in with the Gatorade and looked for her texts.  I had very enthusiastic texts from friends who were rooting me on, but I was only really concerned with Anne.  And, her times were good!  I was doing the math and could see that if she kept up her pace and stuck with it – she would be under 3 hours.   
I looked up from my seated spot at one point and there was Anne’s friend, Dave.  I really don’t know what he said to me, but I know I told him Anne was pacing for a good finish and that I needed to find a sweatshirt or something.  He left and I could see a “Merchandise” sign in the not-too-far-off distance.   I left my array of food items on the ground and stumbled my way to the Marathon Merchandise booth.  I was smart enough to carry my ID and my debit card, this time, and I was grateful for it.  I asked the sales lady for a Women’s Large sweatshirt and she handed one to me and told me to get in line.

And, this is where everything went awry.

I was trying to stand there, shivering, holding the sweatshirt, my phone, my Gatorade and my debit card and I knew I was about to toss my cookies all over the line.  I quickly tossed the sweatshirt at the cashier and said, “I’m going to be sick, please hold this.”

I managed to get to a trash bin before the rest of my universe exhaled into the bin.  HOW COULD I HAVE POSSIBLY HAD THAT MUCH LEFT IN ME?!  Every ounce of Gatorade, water, Gu and whatever else my system found was being released to the wild.  Some guy came running over, “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, but for crissake, I am mid-vomit in front of 20,000 people, what the f**k is he expecting me to come up with?  He stood there in horror for several seconds before determining that I was not going to stop vomiting because he had asked a question and then simply left.  Another man came by with a very similar question shortly after and I still could not respond.  As I released the last of it, I looked up and a young woman had been staring at me.  “That happened to me after a race once; I hope you feel better soon.” And smiled.  MEN!

Now I was freezing, exhausted, sore, emotional and so so so embarrassed.  I looked at my watch and knew Anne would be finishing soon.  I zigzagged my way back to the merchandise booth – YES, I was THAT cold that I had to go back.  Cut in front of everyone in line and said to the cashier with tears in my eyes, “please don’t make me wait on line again.”  She said nothing, grabbed my sweatshirt and took my card.  I put it on before leaving the line.

Angry, I threw the stupid Gatorade bottle in the bin that I had just left my stomach in and walked back to the “A” in the reunion area.  As I walked, my phone beeped, “Anne Donnelly has crossed the finish line with a time of 2:55.”  I smiled and squeaked out my last bit of enthusiasm for that day – and then waited for her to find my sorry ass.  

On the shuttle - with our bling on

When Anne finally found me, I was a mess.  She felt so bad, but all I kept telling her was what an amazing job she had done and how proud I was of her – and to get me back to the house as soon as humanly possible.  And, so she did and I slept.

My mother asked me, as I texted her from the Phoenix airport, why I would ever run a 1/2 marathon with the stomach flu.  My response, "$135 race entry, $200 airfare, and because I am badass!"