You Shouldn't Need to Be in Labor to Get an Epidural

I'm just saying that I think it would be nice to disengage from the waist down for a couple of days while I heal from the United Healthcare half-marathon that Melissa and I did yesterday. On a tour of a local gym today, the mandatory questionaire asked, "When are you planning to begin your training?" My actual reply: "When I can feel my back and legs again." I mean, I can FEEL them pretty well right now, so maybe the reply should have been, "When I STOP feeling my back and legs again."

I am sure that this was HER idea, but Melissa swears that I suggested that we do it because a) there was a GroupOn discount for 50% off the regular registration fee; and b) it would be good to see how in or out of shape we are for January's Walt Disney World Half-Marathon event. (We're a part of Team in Training to raise money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.)

For perspective, Melissa actuals trains. She runs home from yoga class - she's THAT kind of committed. On the other hand, I do yoga. I watch my kids play Wii. I read fitness articles in doctors' waiting rooms. Training has not been as much a part of my daily regimen as say catching up on the latest episode of "The View". [You want a hot topic? Did you see Levi Johnston's interview today? What an ass! But, I digress...]

So yesterday we DID the half. Melissa ran, my neighbor ran, and I hiked. I hoofed. I huffed and I puffed and I blew that house down. I went into it expecting to drop out after 5 miles. I hadn't even taken a walk since the 5k Finish for a Guiness on September 5th. But, if you notice on the map, the farther you go, the farther you get from where you started. And the farther you go, the farther you get from someone who will actually give you a ride back to the finish line if you quit.

The symbols on the map all have significance. For example, the heart is where I felt my absolute best. No pain, no problem. Just me and a great mix on my iPod. I think I was so in the zone a couple times that I may have joined the chorus or pumped a fist Jersey-style on a couple of tunes. Do you have a kick ass song to suggest? I think I will throw my mix out there for critique soon, so get your comments ready.

My back started to ache at the 4.5 mile mark, but that wasn't insurmountable. At 6 miles when I ran into the ambulance, I joked that if they could meet me at the 9 mile mark, I could definitely use a ride. They assured me that someone would be waiting for me. All LIES.

The lightning bolt represents where the worst of it set in. At this point I had a headache, a blister and my legs were permanently stuck straight so I had a bit of a toy soldier gait going on. The only thing that was motivating me at this point was the knowledge that 1) I wasn't in last place (so petty, but so helpful at the time); and 2) I wasn't doing the FULL marathon and that at some point, it had to end.

As a side note - the weather was perfect and the view was spectacular. I mean really, really stunning. I don't think that the 12 tour buses full of people that nearly ran me down could truly appreciate the scenery as they blew by the mansions and the ocean. At my sorry pace, however, I had plenty of time to soak it in!

The star on the map? That's where Melissa, who finished in a spectacular 2:24, got back on the course and finished with me. She didn't get a second medal, but she did get my gratitude, albeit couched in some sputtering and whining.

I finished the race in 3:26. Lesson learned? It's going to take actual, honest to goodness training to do it again in Disney. Can I do it without training? Sure! Would I suggest it, given how silly I look today trying to walk around? Um, no, not really.

Last night after a loooooong soak in my parents whirlpool bathtub, when I showed the medal to the kids I said, "Everyone got one of these, so it isn't special or anything." And Ben, god bless his little heart, said, "Well, I think it's pretty special that you got one." You know what? I do too.