Running against the wind

Double digits is always a mental barrier. When you're a kid, turning 10 is, like, the hugest thing ever. When you're a newbie runner, crossing from running 7 or 8 miles to 10 MILES is huge. And while I've run 10+ miles many times, the first time back after a long layoff always screws with your mind.

But there I found myself on Saturday morning. 10 miles on the schedule and no real way to weasel out of it. I started my "10 week half-marathon training plan" a week late, so it is already beyond crunch time. I woke up in plenty of time, but my belly felt sour and I was dragging. Suppose it's time to remember to eat like a runner on Friday nights - instead of fried perch, tater tots and beer. I texted the group to go on without me - I'd go later on my own. After another 90 minutes of sleep, I got ready and headed to the lake.

10 miles. First double digits since the Marine Corps Marathon.

By the time I was ready and actually setting off, it was 11:00 am. The morning sun was fading. It was warm and breezy - around 60 degrees. It was rough going. I stopped several times in the first few miles. My feet hurt, my calves were cramping, I just needed a break. 

I was playing "the game" for the first several miles. 

"I have to run farther than last week (7 miles), so I need to do at least 3.5 for the out and back. Well, just a 5 or 6 mile run would be enough to make the day worth it, right? Ok, Grand Trunk is about 2 miles. Once I get there, I can stop again and go to the bathroom if I need to. Ok, you could always turn around at mile 4 and have 8 done." 

After 2 miles, I was on the bike path and away from the road. The sky started threatening rain and the wind whipped up. So the inner monologue changed. "Just get to the Y (about mile 4.5). Then if it's storming, you can have Mike pick you up. Or you could turn around there for 9. What are you? An IDIOT??? Run 4.5 miles and not 5??"

Between the 3 and 4 mile marks, I came across the first creeper of the season. Apparently the middle-aged creeps like it when the weather is warm enough for runners to only wear t-shirts and shorts. I knew I looked good as a sweaty, cranky mess, but it's always nice to hear it from someone who then asks where you're running to and how much farther you have to go. Umm... I'm going anywhere you aren't, buddy.

I made it past the YMCA and continued on to Heritage Landing and the Mart Dock for the 5 mile mark. Although the 2 podcasts I'd been listening to were interesting (Ask Me Another and Very Bad Wizards - about ethics and psychology, NOT Harry Potter), they weren't keeping my mood up and feet moving. Time to get out of my head and turn the tunes on. The Pitch Perfect soundtrack hit the spot as I turned around to head back. The hard part was over. Mentally, I only had to run 5 miles. Then it was just getting back.

The way back felt easier too, even though my body was struggling. A hot spot started to form on my right arch and my shoulders and neck were tensing up. The sky continued to look ominous as a few drops teased here and there, the wind picking up. But my pace was better, my mood was better, and I was only taking one minute walking break per mile. 

As I counted down, 3 miles to go, 2.5 miles to go, the rain started coming in fatter drops. The trail ended and put me back on the sidewalk in Lakeside with 2 miles to go. I plodded along, 1.5 miles to go. The blasted wind of Muskegon Lake that always blows in your face, no matter what direction you run. At 1 mile, I picked up the pace and the rain did too. I ran up the final hill in Bluffton, straining to see the big lake at the end. Pushing to the top, OAR blasting "it was a crazy game of poker," I lifted my face into the rain, and reached 10 miles.

Boom. Barrier broken.

Beautiful day for a run!