Pass the salt, and oh yeah, I ran 10 miles yesterday...

Well, that's how it felt. La-de-da. No big deal.

I was S-C-A-R-E-D that morning, due to last week's embroglio, plus I've developed this weird bump on the side of my left foot, like I've grown a new bone there, and then someone came along in the middle of the night and hit it with a hammer. I was limping along, barely walking, for god's sake.

Lucky for me, veteran marathoner-and-person-responsible for my doing any of this, Rosy, was at the site yesterday (Saturday) morning, at 6:45 a.m., for no other reason than to volunteer to be one of the cheering-on people who are stationed at various spots, also earning me $20 toward my goal (now down to $430, thank you very much). I showed her my new foot problem immediately, ("Hi Rosythanksforcoming
goodtoseeyoulookatthisonmyfoot") and she suggested I tell the coaches, and I said if I do, they'll suggest I don't run, to which she replied, probably. After all the angst of last week, there was no way I was not going to even try. So that was the end of that discussion. And thank you, Dr. Rosy!

And then, my new-found friend, let's call her The Divine Miss M, showed up and decided to run with me. I was thrilled, because of my inane fear of running alone in a crowd of 400...

I re-read Galloway on Friday night and once more read that SPEED DOES NOT matter on long runs and if you need to walk, walk. Divine, who is a nurse-cum lawyer-cum novelist-cum teacher of English-cum supermother of three-and probably has several other lives I've yet to hear about, has the exact same running philosophy, which she tried to tell me our first day out, but I obviously did not hear.

So my strategy, barring any fantasy angelic men showing up, was to start with my group, and then do whatever I needed to do to finish. So, DMM and I ran together from Arena Stage to Potomac Boat Club and back. (BTW, did I mention that's TEN miles?)

The group quickly took off ahead of us, at a blazing 13:30 min/mile pace, and Ms. M and I ran the whole the thing together, and she pretty much solved all of my problems by the end. Add psychiatrist to your list, girl. We finished the run in (insert imaginary time here, not that it matters), maybe five minutes after our group. I think we only walked thru two run cycles.

Rosy was at the five mile mark, and I almost cried when I saw her. So WONDERFUL to have someone cheer for you.

And the run was fantastic. Beautiful, low-humidity, fall-like day. The week prior I had eaten well, rested well, practically drowned myself drinking water; and Saturday I ate gu on the run, (new name for band?), and Ms. M shared her gatorade powder along the way. SO I felt fantastic. Weird foot bump did not bother me a bit. We finished with a kick (a major kick; I hadn't realized what those were like before l'il Miz Divine showed me), and I could have easily done another mile.

So, new things I have to worry about THIS WEEK (because let's not spend any time revelling in yesterday's accomplishment, shall we?), include:
1) DMM might quit, and I have not bonded with the group. Or with ANY group.
2) Now I can't run alone; I've become dependent.
3) Weird bone growth/pain on foot. Please please see a DOCTOR!
4) Next week we jump to 12 miles, which is patently an impossible amount to run, obvious to anyone.
5) I need to stop worrying.
6) Major work worries.

But I am able to slip into the conversation, any conversation, oh yeah, I ran ten miles last week...

You go grrl...