Mer Lessons: I believe...

This week hasn’t been without its challenges – but I promise to get to that in a few paragraphs. This week was also a bit like the past several: a 2000 meter swim on Monday, and a great 7.5 mile training run on Tuesday (with a 9:28 pace, too).

Its was still pretty dark, so I positioned myself close to the lamp on my house!

By Wednesday morning, it had been a full week since Matt and I did our last bike ride – so I was excited to hop on my bike for a tough, hilly ride through Ahwatukee. Without Matt on the ride, however, I knew the light on the front of my bike would do very little to illuminate the path in front of me. His light is FAR better, so I opted to use my headlamp in addition to my front light to see if it made much difference. It did – and 18.5 hilly miles later, I was pleased with an AVS of 17.4 mph.

Good thing I had no idea just how goofy I looked while riding!

The challenge of the week began on Thursday morning – yep, the trail run. I had been out the night before at a concert and didn’t get home until shortly after 11pm. This meant that my sleep would be cut short, which may have contributed to the challenging morning. I set my alarm for nearly an hour later than usual, since instead of heading into the office, I was heading to the airport for a conference in St Louis around 9:30am. As I made my way to the usual trailhead (the Desert Classic), there was rain on my windshield. Certain I was mistaken, I carried on. I parked, donned my headlamp and began my usual 6 mile trek up and down the Desert Classic trail. You all know how well I know this trail, now. Even in the dark, it doesn’t pose a problem anymore. But – the rain was light and consistent for the first mile of the trail. Mile two is where the elevation really becomes a bitch and I have to watch my footing with every step. I guess I failed myself as I made my way up – without much notice, I went face-first on a very rocky area. My hands were torn up and my right knee a bloodied mess.

Not sure what to do and not sure how injured I really was, I started to walk back down the trail thinking it was over and I would need to walk back to the trailhead (approx. 1.7 miles away). However, as I moved, I realized that I twisted nothing and that the knee and hands were merely bruised and torn. So, like the badass I always try to be, I turned around, changed my attitude about my injuries and continued right back up the trail, completing all 6 miles with my best time in months. (I blame the decent times on the amount of adrenaline expunged as a result of the flesh I left on the side of South Mountain.) I, honestly, forgot about the injury for 3-4 miles until I came face to face with 3 hikers who gasped at the mess covering my right knee and shin. I looked down and realized that gravity had not been on my side and I looked FAR worse than I felt.

And...there she is!

Naturally, I took Friday off due in part to the injury and in part to the 20 miler I knew I would be punching out on Saturday morning. However, when I awakened on Friday morning, my knee was stiff, disgusting to view and black-n-blue like you cannot even imagine. Even my left knee was black and blue. I was more of a mess than I realized on Thursday. And, I began to stress about the 20 mile run ahead of me.

Mom picked me up from the Conference Hotel on Friday evening and took me to dinner with my brother, Michael, and beautiful Grandmother. I had sent her the map for my run that morning to get her take on it and she asked if (after dinner) I would like to drive the route to make sure I knew where I was headed – 20 miles is 20 miles, even if its in my childhood neighborhood. A lot had changed since I lived, played and drove the area – new roads, new neighborhoods…new everything. What I learned from the drive is that my home town isn’t called Fairview Heights because of its even elevation – and I began to worry about the difficult rolling hills and ridiculous climbs along the route I had planned. By the time we had completed our journey around Fairview, Belleville and Caseyville, I was miserable – and made the decision to simply complete two 10 mile loops in the Fairview-Belleville area.

I went to bed in my mom’s house on Friday night seriously worried about my knee. It felt like surface bruising, but the stiffness from the scabrous areas made for a challenging mental state. I turned on the TV to watch Game 5 of the Cards-Nationals pennant race, but fell asleep when the Nationals were up 4-0 over my beloved Cards. This was not a game worth watching!

By the time I had awakened, the Cards had come back to win the game 9-7! I had a new outlook on the morning. If they could come back from a deficit, so could I – and I prepared myself for 20 miles of hills and humidity (55 degrees, 100% humidity).

It is SO very different to run routes you are unfamiliar with, but it’s a wonderful way to get used to what it will probably feel like on marathon morning. New smells, new elevations, new scenery, new temperature variations. The really cool thing about this particular run was that I was able to get an up-close view of a town I used to call home.

As I passed mile 9, I remembered the first time I had made my way around town in my new-to-me-Honda-Civic-stickshift. I had arrived at the very stopsign that gave me trouble 22 years ago – as I cried in the driver’s seat, unable to figure out how to get the car in gear at a stopsign, heading uphill. A nice man, behind me in a truck, got out of his truck (realizing my newness at a standard transmission) and told me just to roll into his bumper and he would give me a push until I could negotiate the clutch and first gear. I chuckled thinking about that moment. I also passed what used to be “Dew’s Frozen Fantacy” – my first job, and I laughed thinking about how dumb the owner was for thinking Fantasy was spelled with a “c” and not an “s”. A witty customer once told us to tell the smarter-cliental that it was intentional – that the “cy” was for “custard and yogurt”. I am sure David Dew used that until he sold the business to some savvier custard and yogurt shop owner ten years later. (It’s an ice-cream shop, now.)

I wasn’t interested in my times – until I hit mile 18 and realized I was exactly where I had been the week prior. My times remained as consistent as ever – even with the hills, even with the humidity and even with the knee. And, just before mile 19, I glanced to my left and saw my mom in her car, excited that had made it so far successfully. I put one finger in the air and screamed, “Only One More, Ma! Only One More!!” She drove off smiling, agreeing to meet me back at the house.

As I turned onto my childhood street, I grinned all the way to my mom’s house. And, like kismet, my watch beeped “20 miles” mere feet from her driveway. My watch read “3:21:16” – but as I plugged my watch into my laptop moments ago, my real time (without stoplights) was 3:20:05 – a solid 10 minute mile! I am beside myself – pleased! I am starting to believe in myself, again…