You Have A Choice...

First, a recap of this week's training...

Sunday - Recovery Run (3.75 miles)
Monday - Ran the country road loop around my grandparents' house (approximately 4 miles).
Tuesday - Off day as a result of insomnia Monday night.
Wednesday - Ran a lap around the lake near my grandparents' house (approximately 3.3 miles).
Thursday - Core strength class at gym, 55 minutes, then one pathetic lap around my lake (1.25 miles)
Friday - Weight lifting with concentration on abs and arms in the gym

As usual, there were many tactical errors on my part this week. First, I ran less than 8 miles over the course of the week, not including Sunday's recovery run. Second, on Friday I "hydrated" with mimosas instead of water. Not a good call. I was reasonably concerned going into today's 8 mile group run. Concerned enough that I prayed; I prayed that I would finish, then I submitted an addendum prayer that if I couldn't finish please just don't let me die with that ugly water belt on my waist!

I woke up extra early this morning and worked in some stretching, ate a handful of dry cereal, and drank some water. By the time I arrived at the location of our 8-mile group run on the W&OD between Sterling and Ashburn I had actually worked myself into a state of fear. I looked around and I didn't see my mentor, which scared me even more, because without her I was still basically going to be running on my own.

The coaches started with what is called a "Mission Moment." Coach Kim told us about a woman who joined Team in Training a few years back, she was always really quiet, no one really knew why she was there. Then about halfway through the season she shared her story. Her 10-year-old daughter had died of leukemia two months before, a week before her 30th birthday. She raised $20,000 in honor of her daughter, so other parents would not have to experience such a loss. I cannot imagine. She has raised $20,000 every season since, and has to date raised over $300,000. This brief story, this mission moment, helped put what I was about to do back into perspective. How many miles could you run to save your child, to prevent your child, from dying? 8 miles didn't seem so far anymore.

After we did a little warm-up run and stretched, Coach Chip asked how many people were running 8 miles for the first time ever - about 1/3 of the runners there raised their hand, including me. This, too, helped calm my fears, if only slightly. I joined the 11.5 minute mile pace group, and off we went. After 4 minutes I realized that the group I joined was actually a run-walk group, so I was on my own again...which, sucks. The first mile I kept telling myself that "the first mile always sucks." By the second mile I had already started the countdown to the turn-around (half-way) point. Somewhere during mile 3, I fell into step with the 12 minute mile pace group, which included my mentor Caroline, I was so happy to see her!

By mile 5 I really did not know if I had it in me. My legs were tired. My lungs were tight. The f-ing water belt (i.e. weight belt because I was not actually drinking any of the water) was heavy and hot on my waist. I wanted to quit. OK, not quit, but I wanted to stop and walk. But, my breathing was still steady, and Caroline was still going, so I kept running.

At the start of mile 7 I hit the wall. I knew it was still another 2 miles to go. I knew I had already gone further than ever before in my life. I knew there was going to be a huge hill at the end. My breathing was still steady, but had dropped down to a 3 count from my usual 4 count...it always gets faster toward the end, but typically not until the last 1/2 mile. But now it was just Caroline and I, everyone else in the pace group had dropped back some, and Caroline was keeping us at a perfect 12 minute mile pace. I thought that I might actually collapse. Almost puked, twice.

Then I remembered the quote the coaches sent out to us this week, which of all places came from a Gatorade bottle, "You have a choice. You can throw in the towel, or you can use it to wipe the sweat off your face."

Today I chose to wipe the sweat off my face. I completed the 8 miles. 1 hour, 36 minutes. No quitting, no stopping, no walking.