A Thanksgiving to Remember

This is a blog I wrote for Thanksgiving and saved until I coud get onto this site again.

As a cocky Peachtree Road Race veteran, I decided to run the Atlanta Half Marathon. The surprising thing is that I stopped at the Half and did not sign up for the whole marathon. You know, Pisces tend to overestimate their ability and/or time to get things done. And I am truly a Pisces!

When I called my mom and told her that the kids and I might be late for Thanksgiving Dinner because I needed to run 13.1 miles that morning, she wanted to know if I needed financial help for psychiatrist visits. In my huffy disgust I told her that it was not a problem and that it would be fun and we changed the subject to what I was to prepare for the annual feast.

Over the next few weeks, I ran when I could. During each run, I thought about how good Thanksgiving dinner would taste and how I would be able to eat anything I wanted without guilt. After all, I would have burned up a lot of calories that morning! Having three kids and a job hindered my training. My goal had been to be running about 15 miles before the day of race so I would have no problems that day. It was a nice dream—but the longest I could manage in my schedule was 10. “That should be fine,” I told myself, actually believing it at the time.

Thanksgiving morning I awoke to a temperature in the mid-30’s and rain. Stubbornly I insisted on going and made it to the start area, met up with a friend, and started running with everyone else. At the start area, the lines for the potties were extremely long and I patiently waited. Finally I was in one and finishing my business when I heard the race start! Hurriedly I completed my task and ran to join the others, but of course, was at the back of the pack.

In the first ½ mile, I tripped over a pylon hidden by the masses in front of me and cut my leg. I seriously thought about quitting at that point and stood on the side of the road by myself. As I stood there the vehicle that followed the racers to pick up anyone who could not make it passed me! After whining for a while, I decided to keep going despite the blood dripping down my leg. I was so tough!

From there, everything went fine until about mile 11. My rain-sodden shoes were so heavy that every step was a chore. I was tired and I ached. A few miles back the endorphins had kicked in and I felt great. Some Powerade and an energy bar had perked me up and I was going strong. I was passing people and doing better than I thought I would do.

Now the endorphins had kicked back out. At mile 12 I hit the wall—the theoretical wall runners speak of in hushed tones, hoping that it never happens to them. Everything went into slow motion in my mind and all was blurred around me. I was not sure where I was or how to get where I was going, so I decided to follow this crowd around me. They seemed to be headed somewhere.

Beyond the finish line, my boyfriend caught up to and stopped me because I just kept going. I never knew I had completed the run. Then I ran to the porta-potties and kept doing that for a while, even after I got home.

And I was cold—I was so cold! At home even the hot shower didn’t warm me. I got into bed with lots of covers and shivered myself to sleep. When I woke up it was dark outside and the house was empty. I had missed the Thanksgiving dinner at my parents that I had so been looking forward to, missed the day with the kids, missed the turkey and the pumpkin pie.
A few minutes later the door burst open and the kids rushed in with my boyfriend bringing up the rear and carrying plates of food. “Thanks Mom,” I thought. She had put a little of everything in plates and sent them to me. It was the next day before my stomach would agree to let me actually eat much of it though.

Was it worth it? As I looked back, I was proud of finishing. Despite the adversity, I had persevered and triumphed. And I went back several more years and ran the same race. So yes, it was worth it.

Why I have been gone so long!

Okay, I last posted a blog in September and now it is the last day of November...what the heck happened to me? Did I fall in a mud puddle and break my blogging fingers??? Not likely in Georgia this year!

It is so embarassing that I hate to say it. But I will gather up my fragile pride and make a confession. I could not remember how to sign in to my blog....there I have finally admitted it! Whew, that feels better.

When I created this blog, it stretched my computer techno abilities to the max. Naturally, in hindsight, I should have written down my login name and password. Apparently at the time I was suffering under the illusion that I was still 25 and all of my brain cells were still functional. Anyway, I was sure I would remember it. Alas, the best laid plans....you know the rest.

So I finally dug around in this site and found a way to have them tell me what it was I forgot. I love that part about computers! And here I am, ready to write with my login and password safely tucked away in a passcode protected site. Now if I can just remember the passcode....