It's Not Every Day

I run 20 miles.

But to quote AIDs Training Marathon Program Rep's weekly e-mail:
We follow the Jeff Galloway method because it has worked so well for tens of thousands of runners. You may feel that your 20-mile run seems very slow at first, but trust me; you will appreciate it fully when the miles start racking up. What’s more, you will be grateful for it when you have a faster and injury-free marathon day.

(I love the line about "...when the miles start racking up..." I wonder when that happens ...)

So, our pace was slowed to run 2/walk 2 and that's what we did for the entire twenty miles.

Which took:

5 hours 11 minutes.

Holy crap.

In my pre-marathon training days, I distinctly recall telling a marathoner friend, "Geeze, I can't even think of anything I like doing that I'd want to do for five hours."

So, now I get it.

It was loooooooonnnnng, but it was awesome.

Ran with the Group. Evan ran with Pace Group Leader. So, now, maddeningly, I have to take back previous less-than-gracious comments about PGL. She did well keeping the pace, we ran together for a while, and actually shared a few laughs. At one point, she deconstructed the ingredients in several alcoholic beverages (there's rum in mojitos?? who knew?) And, as a group, we played "name that capital" (my idea, natch). And generally we just put one foot in front of the other.

My friends, there is no "I" in TEAM.

Highlights:

Passing the "Welcome to Maryland sign" (where we took a GROUP photo), around mile 8;

Running thru Ye Olde Train tunnel, which was about 10 gazillion degrees cooler than rest of trail (around mile 9)
(The Dalecarlia tunnel in 1975, although it looks more like 1875)


















Same tunnel circa 2005:




















Inside same tunnel (um, does someone have a thing for tunnels?):












(Photos from Crescent Trail Web site.)

"Mr. Big" spraying me with water around mile 8;

Mr. Big draping icy cold towel on my neck around mile 13ish, that made me ask him if he would marry me and bear my children ("Yeah, I get a lot of that," said he);

Mile 16ish: Thompson's boat house, where there is a real bathroom; sitting down (ouch ouch ouch ouch); then hitting the FREE ice machine there;

The long slog (3.5 miles) back to base, which magically doubles in length at the end of every run, along the National Mall, dodging tourists;

Driving home (which drive, btw, is 16.5 miles, a mere stroll in the park);

Hobbling up to apartment;

Number One Daugher helping poor old Mom into bath;

NOD putting ice in bath (such a wicked, wicked child);

Laying on floor with legs up on wall so that lactic acid will go back to brain, where it belongs;

Long, lovely summer's nap.

In other news, I'm driving NOD back to school tomorrow, so I will now have to take care of myself again, as in make own dinners, do laundry, make own ice baths. No more personal maid service. Oh yeah, and I'll really really miss having her around. Did I mention that NOD rocks?

And, though I'm loathe to admit it, so does her Mom.