Yesterday's run was painful. It was hot. And humid. And long. I had a positive outlook leading up to the run (especially since last week's 18 went so smoothly). But once I walked out the front door and got smacked in the face by a wall of humidity, I wasn't so sure anymore.
The first eight weren't bad. G and I were joined by R. The conversation was good. The pace was good. But it was hot. We were all sweating a lot. I had even started to drink from my hydration belt, something that usually doesn't happen until after mile 12.
After that first eight, we dropped off R and headed out on the last 12. About three miles into that 12, I knew things were going downhill. I was parched. 100% cottonmouth. And the Gatorade that I carry with me was only making it worse. Fortunately (and this was HUGE), Dizzle's BFF lives in one of the neighborhoods we ran through. So, at mile 13.3 we stopped for water. Which, I later realized, was an actual lifesaver. The last six miles was so bad that without it, I am pretty sure we would have actually need to use those RoadIDs we were wearing.
But, I won't bore you with the details. We finished. It was painful and took 17 minutes longer than I was planning on. But it's done. And we are onto the next. This week is a recovery week with what seems like an incredibly short long run: 12 miles.
We do have one more 20 miler before the marathon, two weeks from today. And surprisingly, I am not scared of it. I'm not really looking forward to it and I want this whole marathon thing done with, but it's not scaring me. I just hope that I don't wake up to run that 20 and find out that it's 75 and humid again ...