MMMMM Salty

So after a little spring break it's back to running and blogging...After monsoon season struck Boston, and I was forced to run 14 miles on a treadmill instead of outside, I headed south to the equator in the hopes that the warm weather would inspire me to run. It did not. I had convinced myself that I would run at least twice while I was in Aruba but it did not happen. Even after I saw tons of athletic-looking individuals running up and down the beach. 90 degree temperatures made me just want to lay on a raft in the middle of the ocean, not run 5 miles a day. Epic failure.

When I headed back to Boston on Thursday night I was pleasantly surprised by the amazing weather that had suddenly arrived and I was really excited to get back into training. Friday I took it easy with a little 3 mile warm up run, not wanting to overdo it before our long group run on Saturday morning. The goal was 18 miles out and back from Wellesley to BC. I was all peppy and dressed in my Dana-Farber shirt and hat because they were taping us on our run. Note to self: do not wear a black hat, black shorts, and a t-shirt with a tank top under it when it's 70 degrees outside and you're running hills. Stephanie and I started out strong and the first few miles we ran at a 9 minute mile pace. But as soon as we turned onto Comm Ave I started to feel sluggish. I told Stephanie to go ahead and I started to lag behind and was forced to turn on my music, even though I told myself I would try to run without it. At each water stop I took off one of my layers--first the hat, then the tank top, and finally at mile 9, the turnaround, I had to ditch the Dana-Farber shirt. I was feeling BAD. And now here I was, running in just a sports bra and shorts and looking (and feeling) like crap.

With every hill I ran down, I felt worse and worse. My legs were cramping, my stomach was churning, and I thought I was going to pace out. I have never felt this bad on a run, nor have I ever just stopped running. But here I was, only to mile 12, and I had to walk for a few minutes. Marcy tried to convince me to "listen to my body" and stop running altogether and get a ride back from the water stop, but I was stubborn. I convinced myself that I could make it back to Wellesley, at least to the last water stop. I kept telling myself, only 3 more miles. Just make it there. When I passed the firestation at the end of Comm Ave, I had to ask the fireman who was outside washing the firetrucks to spray my head down with cold water. He took pity on me, thankfully. The cool water helped for a little while, and I managed to keep stumbling along, but the minute I hit Grossman's Hill I tanked. Here I was, crying and walking up this hill, just praying the water stop was around the corner. Once I got over the hill I told myself RUN. Grasso. Just run, you have to. I tried. I failed. I tried I failed. When I finally got to the stop I knew it was over. I had to ask for a ride back to the health club.

It didn't bother me so much that I felt like I'd been hit by a truck, or that my pace was as slow as molasses, it was the fact that I couldn't finish my run and meet my goal. There is only one long run left, next saturday, and it's a 22-miler on the same course. If I couldn't finish 18, how am I going to do 22?

I talked to Jack, our team guru/trainer, after the run and expressed my frustration. He told me that I am always a consistent runner and to not get down on myself about this run. In fact, after examining me and seeing that I was covered in a fine layer of salt he suggested that my issue was that I was sweating/leaching out too much salt during the run, and that my body was shutting down as a result. No amount of gatorade at the water stops was going to replenish my body with the amount of salt I was losing so I was getting dehydrated. He suggested I invest in some tasty bullion cubes of salt and pop a few of them over the course of the run, particularly on those hot days. Yummy. Nothing I like to do more than eat a giant cube of salt while I'm running.

Now I've had a few days to think about it. I realize I really shouldn't have expected I could make it all the way to marathon day without having a run that just did not go well. How can you expect to just kill every run when you're training over a 5 month period? It's unrealistic. We're pushing our body to the limits. I just need to focus on why I'm running. So I'm attaching this picture to remind myself. This photo was taken at the In-Memory dinner a few weeks ago and it's of me and Joey's family. I've been emailing with his mother and every time I open one it only inspires me more. She is SO supportive and positive, and I cannot wait until Marathon weekend and the Pasta Party when I can sit down with Joey's family and my own family and friends and get ready for what will certainly be one of the best days of my life. There is less than a month left until April 19th and I cannot wait to see what the rest of March and April brings!

Oh, and keep your fingers crossed that Marathon Monday is NOT 70 degrees, because I don't know if the firemen are going to be out there washing the trucks again and I really don't feel like throwing my singlet out into the crowd.