10-miler Me

So this morning, I tackled my last long run before my next race. I parked on "my" side of the Kemah Bridge, ran over the bridge, ran another 8 miles, and ran over the bridge again. See said bridge.

The plan was to meet up with my buddy Heather at around mile 3, run 6 with her, and tackle my bridge again. Sadly, Heather snoozed her alarm (thanks, buddy...) and I drudged through all 10 miles alone. It was foggy, oppressively damp, and just plain barf outside (yes, barf is now an adjective). This was a real head game for me, knowing that once I ran 9 miles I had to visit my friend the bridge again. When I never bumped into Heather, my mind wandered significantly. I generally don't run with music (anymore), but MAN. I wished I had some music today! I was counting rabbits and praying for friends and family and counting steps and playing all kinds of head games. It. Didn't. Work.

After what seemed like a lifetime, I finally hit mile 9. I took a quick walk break to gather my strength to climb and BOOM. Here came the rain. So much for my walk break... I rolled my eyes, figuratively stuck my tongue out at God, and bucked up. Once I start up a hill or a bridge, I make it a policy to NEVER stop. I refuse to "waste" a walk on a climb, because you don't truly get to rest and I refuse to walk on the way down because gravity.

Anyway, I finally made it back to the car, exactly 2 hours later. I'm pretty annoyed with myself over this pace, but hey. No friends, no music, no pretty day - it's a wonder I made it through at all. I'll taper off over the next couple of weeks and get ready to run my next 13.1 on February 15. That's one more 10-miler in the books and another bazillion steps toward my goal!