Buck and Bonk: Race Report

The best part of my half marathon yesterday was my hair.  Doesn't it look good?

I'll take the mystery out:  I bonked, my Buck husband kicked ass.  First half in a sub 2.  Go ahead leave my lonely little blog and find something else more exciting to do.  For all the faithfuls here are the deets.

  I was excited at first.

I woke up had a banana and toast and a little coffee.  I followed a comparatively light training plan this time but didn't cheat at all.  Additionally, I had taught a fair amount of Yoga and other Cardio classes during training so I thought I was all that.  I was relaxed and felt strong.  Yesterday morning we couldn't find a parking spot, of course, and I needed the porta potty as soon as we got downtown.  With 6 miles to Empty (in the car) we pulled into a spot (that I was sure was illegal but I wasn't telling my panicking husband) with 12 minutes to start, a full bladder and 4 blocks to walk.  I forewent a potty stop, waved good bye to my newbie halfer husband and found my wave.  Cold (37 degrees, you see my outfit?) and full bladder I am ray-to-go. 

In the beginning I felt amazingly good despite my frozen skin and elimination needs.  It had to be the pigtails.  After leaving lots of people in my dust I saw a port- a-potty at mile 3 and took advantage.  I have never used the facilities during a race - even my 5 hour marathon.  Then I got back on track and it took about 2 miles for me to catch up to and pass the pack I started with.  I AM the badass I liken myself to be.  Around mile 9 I just bonked.  I have never had that all-at-once break down experience.  It was like a fast leak out of a tight raft in rough waters.  I began to panic and felt confused, honestly/really couldn't figure out why it happened.  This was my 5th half marathon so I know a little about how to fuel/etc.  Weird.  So I surrendered to my race and my day and the state of things.  I took a shot of beer at the 9 mile fueling station, also a first.  I didn't stop running but I was running on nearly empty - simply out of gas.  For 4 miles I clawed at the proverbial wall and never got over it.  I did fight however and crossed the finish line at a decent stride to see my long since finished husband who after a slice of pizza and a banana was on his second bagel.  Had I taken much longer, he'd have stayed for lunch.  Oh wait, that was lunch.

Mike is a powerfully built weekend warrior kind of athlete who played baseball in college and has remained in shape with recreational running.  He has several 10k's under his belt.  He - no surprise to me - finished his first half marathon in 1:57:23 at age 46.  He is tenacious and focused and it has always served him well in athletics.  He can block everything out and just keep his focus like no one I've ever seen.  He flies under the radar and doesn't even talk about his goals with fitness.  He just does it.  Sound familiar, Nike?  He should be your spokesperson.   Me - after 2:16 on the course I almost threw up walking to the car.  I couldn't feel my legs and had no mental acuity whatsoever.  And I was hungry.  Because I am selfless and thinking about my faithful blog readers (thanks, you 2) I had our waitress at the diner take our photo to mark the moment.

Doesn't my hair look good?

Somebody help me.  How do I not bonk next time?  I'm running a full int he Spring.

The eyes have it

Much to my dismay, my daughter asked me if she could try out for her middle school cheer leading squad.  I mean no offense to anyone who has or does cheer (I did).  Gloria Steinam I am not, but I have a little 'thang' inside about girls going ga-ga over the athletic accomplishment of guys.

In all her glory, here's Gloria:

"A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle."

- Gloria Steinem

My daughter campaigned her cause and wore me down.  She helped me see that my 43-year old view of the world doesn't match an 11-year old trying to find her way.  "It's just fun.", she says.  As long as it's moral, legal, and has some value to the development of her I should consider it.  In the end I let her do it.  She learned cheers and stunts and jumps and moves and today she tries out.  And I want her to make it.  I understand that cheerleaders are athletes and that the stereotype of pretty, popular, and petite and perhaps a bit sassy doesn't have to apply.  I just couldn't ignore my 'issue' with the proliferation of the notion that girls stand behind guys to let THEM shine.  The old SHE's the secretary, HE's the boss gender role play. 

My pal, Gloria also says:

"A movement is only composed of people moving. To feel its warmth and motion around us is the end as well as the means."

And so school spirit, enthusiasm and strategy on my daughter's part won out.  And I'm glad.  I told her to shine from the inside out today and the rest will take care of itself.  Sounds a big Yogic.  Yoga meets cheer leading.  Who knew?

She was exhausted from her tryouts, school responsibilities, dance class and just being 11.  Here's last night:

My diva daughters surrendering to sleep.  Bliss.

Tomorrow my husband and I run the Suntrust Richmond Half Marathon (his first).  Hanging back and letting him shine won't be hard - he's fast!  But I'd do it anyway not because I am weak or pretty or popular or petite (God knows!) It's just fun.  And it's just nice.  Go Kathleen!