Pity Party

I had a few blogs in my mind to write this week as I was running yesterday.  I have pushed those back so I can feel bad for myself.  This is going to be a downer blog.  Boo.

This past weekend had a grand total of 35 miles ran.  Yep, 35.  I'm trying to get two big runs in a row to train for my marathon and the secret project (shhhh).  Saturday I ran 15 of the crappiest miles ever, but that had nothing on Sunday's run.  

The plan was to just get an easy 20 miles in on the River's Edge Trail in Great Falls.  Almost 8 miles are paved, while there are countless trail miles after the pavement ends.  I had two plans in mind in order to get twenty:  run to the end of the pavement and back and get four more miles somewhere along the route (there are arteries that go off from the main route, so this would be easy to do) OR run a 4 miles on the trails.  

The run started at 2 PM after Mass and some lunch with the fam.  I had my tunes, my camelbak, and my watch.  I was ready to go.  The weather was 75 and cloudy with approaching thunderstorms in the distance.  I needed to get out and done before I would get electrocuted.  The goal pace for this run was to be 8:45-9:15, not too fast, not too slow.  I hoped to get into some sort of rhythm where I didn't think about it too much and I just kind of floated.  Well, that didn't exactly happen.

The first few miles were good.  Fairly slow and easy.  Tons of people outside hanging out in the parks and pools, having picnics, drinking beer.  They seemed to be enjoying themselves and laughing at me for running on a lazy Sunday.  I was having fun, bopping to my tunes, drinking some water every now and then.  This run has a great view of the great Missouri River.  It takes you past two dams and countless falls (get it, Great Falls?) so there is no shortage of views on the run.  I was taking all of this in when I hit the end of the asphalt.

There was a sign at the end of the trail telling us that Cochran Dam was open for crossing that day.  This is only open for 5 days of the summer for pedestrians and bikers to cross, so I was excited to get a chance to cross it and be on the river, even though I'm afraid of water.  The problem was I didn't know how far along the trail the dam was, but I feared it was over the two I needed to get my four miles out and back.  I took the trails nice and easy, which made me feel pretty good.  There are some good uphills and such, but nothing too difficult.  I reached the 10 mile mark of my run and was still a mile from the dam.  I considered running to the dam, but considering it was 400 feet below me, I knew I'd have a tough climb plus an additional 2 miles.  Nope, Craig is not doing that.

I turned around and started to head back to the vehicle, which was imperative as the clouds, I thought, were getting a little closer.  Now to this point, I had rationed my water fairly well, but after hitting the asphalt and going uphill aways, it was clear the heat was going to get to me and I would NOT have water soon.  Uh oh, trouble.  I knew there were some bathrooms along the route, but didn't know if any, or where, there could be water fountains, even though I've run this trails many times.  I figured if I could get to the Fish and Game building, I could probably at least get a drink in there.  I just had to make it 2 miles.  This, my friends, was the longest two miles of my life.  I tried to ration the water better, but I had an unquenchable thirst.  Then, about 100 yards out was my salvation, a water fountain.  I then prayed that it was in working order.  IT WAS.  That could very well have been the best water I have ever tasted.  I drank a few gallons, it seemed, filled my camelbak, a mistake, and was on my way.  I say filling the camelbak was a mistake because the added weight seemed to hurt my feet.  This was the common theme for the last five miles.

I was beginning to think WAY too much about how my legs and feet hurt and how many miles I had to go.  I began to count down every half mile, then quarter mile, then tenth.  This seemed like it would last forever.  I then slowed down to a walk with 4 miles to go.  I pointed out a bench 100 yards out and decided to start running ahead when I got to that bench.  Then a mile later, same thing.  Walk, then run.  With 3 miles to go I told myself I could run the rest of the way as long as it was slowly.  This was successful, until a mile out when I saw a bench and had to sit down, my feet hurt a little too much.  I sat for a minute and ran back to the truck.  I hurt all over and needed some electrolytes, as I had become somewhat nauseous from, what I thought, was too much water and not enough salt intake.  I had taken a GU at the halfway point, but it wasn't enough.  I speeded to a gas station and got a vitamin water and a wild cherry pepsi.  Yum Yum.  I then called Amy and cried on her shoulder about my miserable runs.

Oh, and my left foot hurts right at the ball of the foot in front.  Can't seem to find any info on it, but I'm sure it may have something to do with running 35 miles in a weekend.  

Rest rest, blah blah blah.

Hopefully this will get better, this running thing.