20 Miler #2: The Crappy One

 

 The elevation profile looks a little bit like a devil, doesn't it?  Maybe an omen?

We decided to tackle the more scenic of our 20 mile routes.  The perfect sunny day almost demanded it.  Although there was a noticeable constant wind (about half the force of the previous 20 miler), we were determined to run alongside the ocean.

The whole week, I had been plagued by digestive issues, so when I started the run feeling like I’d have to go #2 somewhere along the way, I just thought it was gas and went along my way.  No problem with four possible bathroom stops along en route.

We ran north through the bottoms.  Cows mooed at us along the way.  Bikers were everywhere.  We usually do our long runs on a week day just because they go with Matt’s schedule, but this one was on a weekend day.  It sets a skewed view of how many people actually exercise outdoors here and surprises me when we do go out on a Sunday.

 

Keeping pace with a father and son biking team and into the wind, I felt unstoppable.  My plan was to keep the first 10 miles at a 9:00/mi and then speed it up later if I felt good; I had to keep myself from getting carried away.  The first ten miles went by without much effort, despite that constant headwind.  I farted with nearly every step and the sense of urgency seemed to go away.  So it was just gas, awesome.  No need to stop anywhere.  Except for the fact that I blew snot out my nose and down my face as I ran and drank from my water hose (haha, still haven’t got that down. My nose was extra watery with allergies around too), all was well.  

I calculated five mile splits and was surprised that the first two were just seconds apart in 44:50 and 44:48.  How’s that for consistency?

 

The return trip included a few uphills, but nothing that forced me to slow down significantly.  Soon we found ourselves on the coastal bluffs overlooking the waves.  It sure is beautiful here.  I’m still not in love with the ocean in the same way that the locals are, but I have to agree, it is nice to look at.  We spotted several crab fishing boats out on the water.  It is supposed to be rainy this week, they need to grab those crab pots soon!

We passed the final potty stop at mile 15 and I felt no urge to stop.  By mile 17, it was clear that my farts were no longer just gas.  You know what I mean.  It was like drinking a milkshake through a straw: things flow perfectly until you hit a strawberry that is too big to get through.  I’ll save you from further imagery.  You’re welcome. 

 

The Bottoms has no trees.  No bushes to hide behind and those millions of cyclists passing by.  I stopped a few times during the 18^th mile to settle myself.  I admit, I panicked and picked up the pace a little to get to the car in one piece, probably not the best idea ever as I’m sure it just stirred things up further.

Matt took off and ran the final mile at his own pace.  This is his last 20 before Boston and he wanted to finish it on a fast note.  No problem.  I took full advantage of being alone.  In that final mile, I had to stop several times to compose myself.  A few of them even included me physically smashing my cheeks together to keep it together.  I frantically looked around for bushes.  Now I was in neighborhoods and there were people working in their yards.  I really had no choice but to keep running.  Distraught, I booked it every moment that I could.  And I made it to 20.00 miles on the watch without soiling myself.  That was a miracle.  

 

That’s just one more skill to add to my mental toolbox, right?

I was pretty amazed at how steady my pace ended up being:

20 miles, 2:59, 8:57/mi.