I’m starting to think about MdS as a restful vacation with a bit running thrown in. I’m not underestimating the desert...
Nueces 50 (minus 44), Baby Zombies, and Saintly HusbandsLiza
Stephen Colbert interviewed Anne-Marie Slaughter after she wrote an article titled “Why Women Still Can’t Have It All” in The Atlantic in 2012. I haven’t read the article because, well yeah — see the title.
Colbert’s intro pretty much summed up last week for me.
“… on whether women can have both a career and a family? The answer: Yes.
The career, and family, and sleep? No.”
You wouldn’t think the cherub pictured below
was actually a baby zombie. But she is. She will try and eat your face if she gets close — and, just as Wikepedia’s zombie entry describes, there is “re-awakening — typically after being buried [put down for the night]— into a psychotic state.”
I wrote my coach and a good friend before the Nueces 50 asking whether I should run. I hadn’t slept more than 4 hours at a time for the past two weeks and had probably really only averaged 5 hours a night. I was a mess. Thursday morning I found myself yelling hysterically at Eliot. His response was classic Eliot: “So are you angry at me?”
Me: (high-pitched and forlorn wail) “Nooooooo.”
My training had been crappy and I knew I wouldn’t be able to race well. Both my coach and my friend told me I could still have a good 50-mile training run. I agreed. And then I didn’t get any sleep Friday night. At one point on the two and a half hour drive out to Camp Eagle I told Eliot, “I think I’m going to die.” (Honestly, people, the man is a saint.) Right about then I decided I’d run with Asa in his first 10k and get in as much running as I could without toeing the start line at 6am. It sounds ridiculous now that I’ve gotten some rest, but in the fog of lack of sleep, it seemed like the best solution. Asa had a wonderful time. “This is the most beautiful medal I’ve ever seen.”
And then I headed out for two 90-minute runs broken up by Ruby feeding and Eliot napping. Your grandmother would have run faster than I did, but I was somewhat proud of the effort. And I stitched together a four-hour effort on Sunday after some good sleep with the whole family in a mega-mid under the Texas stars.
Eliot and I came up with a plan to see me through the next 33 days until Umstead on the drive back to San Antonio, and I’d best finish this blog, so I can get back to it. (Team Howard!) This entry has a bit of an “airing of dirty laundry” feel for me — and one of my worst memories of the weekend will definitely be fielding a loud “I thought you were running? What happened?” query in front of a group of people — but, as a wise lyricist once wrote, “I get knocked down, but I get up again.” (Chumbawamba’s Moral Imperative)
And just to be very clear, this blog is about being disappointed about failing to accomplish important training and racing goals. I’m feeling quite blessed on the life and living side of things. Look at those beautiful kids and reread the part about my fine husband.
Training: 3 Treadmill Hours from 6-9pm.