Wounded Warrior

So I just realized that I never did a race recap for my second half marathon.  Oops, so here it goes.

I decided to run the Wounded Warrior.  It was the right time, it supports the military and lets face it, the course was flat.  I was determined to beat my previous time from the Rock-N-Roll Half and I figured this was the place to do it.  Boy was I wrong.

Let me start from the beginning.

The night before, I was NOT hungry.  I forced myself to eat because I knew I had to eat.  I drank lots of water and set my clothes out for the next morning.  I dont function well at 430 in the morning and I didnt want to leave anything behind.

I laid down and prepared myself for sleep.  It didnt work too well.  My mind wouldnt stop and I ended up staring at the ceiling until 3AM.

At 430, my alarm went off.  I dressed in the dark, ran into the door, grabbed my breakfast, and stumbled to the car.  Im pretty sure I looked like I was taking the walk of shame in my running clothes.

I drove and met the people I was running with and found that my glove box was jammed.  My watch, my carrier, and my music was in there.  There was no way I would run with no music, I wont make it.  I rammed it open (it now wont close now) and grabbed my stuff.

Adrenaline was pumping, I want to get it over with, I was so tried.  Before the race, we snapped this picture, its the only one  I got from the entire day.

Im tired and groggy but Im ready to go. I find the pacer that I want to stay with and waiting for the race to start.  3....2...1, go and we were off.  I was good the first 2 miles, right on pace and I found my grove.  4 miles clocked in at 38 minutes, still on track.

6 miles, 59 minutes, yea I can do this. 

Then the heat came.  I was getting tired and my stomach was growling.  At mile 7, I ate a GU, at the same time I always do and fast walked to down some water.  Thats when it happened.  I came around the corner and my stomach flipped.  I ran to the bushes and puked.  It was not pretty.  I wiped my mouth, grabbed some more water and took off.  Thats when it went completely down hill.

My toes began to ache, they never ache at mile 8-9.  Then I felt my toenail, in the bottom of my sock.  Disgusting I know.  Thats when the liquid came.  Im was 100% positive my shoe just filled with blood.  This is when I said screw my time and I walked.  I just wanted the whole thing to be over.  I was NOT enjoying myself this run.  I blame the heat and the lack of sleep.

Around mile 11, the 2:20 pacer passed me.  Im not gonna lie, I was a little butt hurt.  I pushed down and fought myself to stay with her.  That lasted about 2 minutes.  I got cramps, I wanted to puke, my socks were soaked. She slowly distanced her self from me.

Thats what it dawned on me.  My time REALLY doesnt matter, I just wanna finish.  At that moment, the music gods shed mercy on my.  Sad but True by Metallica started to play.  I smiled and took off.  I finished, wet socks and all.

My primary goal was to beat my previous time of 2:25.  My seondary goal was to finish in 2:15.  Neither happend, I finished at 2:29:31, but I finished.

On another note, when I got home, my socks were not filled with blood.  Turns out I got a blister on TOP of my toe and it popped.  I got to figure this out before I attempt the full in December or my feet might fall off.

Im in desperate need of a pedicure, this running is killing my toes.

And thats the 'good' foot.

Sad but True.