I weighed myself and was up 0.2 pound. I ran in the Komen race and finished much later than I'd hoped and expected. I was as blue as a girl can be on a beautiful October morning.
As I laid down for a nap after the race, my left leg began to hurt terribly. But I was too tired to get up and get the ice pack. So I just slept.
One hour later, I got up for work. Leg still hurt. But my mood was a little better.
I decided to step on the scale again, thinking, "Yeah I know I just ran and ate a banana and drank a lot of water but it's later in the day and maybe the early, early weigh-in was off because I had really just gone to bed hours earlier."
Turned out, maybe that thinking had some truth to it. I was down 1.6 pounds from last week's weigh-in.
So, despite the very sore leg, I was a bit happier.
Now, back to the race. I decided to give my Garmin to a friend who has been training super hard and wanted to PR today. I knew she could really use it and I thought it could be cool to try running without a watch.
I ran and ran, keeping what I thought was a great pace. And I never stopped. Not for water, not to walk, not for a second. And that was my big goal. There were moments near the end when I wanted to stop for "just a bit." But I kept at it. I felt good. Felt strong. Was wondering if, maybe, I was running in record time.
Then I saw it.
The damn clock.
37 minutes it read.
I crossed shortly after, somewhere around 37:30 or so, maybe later. I was really, really bummed.
But I had no watch and I accomplished the one goal I could set: running the whole thing. And I was happy to not be hurting during the race.
Now, though, I sit here at work with an ice pack on my leg. There's pain, bad pain, limping pain. All I can do is ice and rest and hope and pray.
(P.S. My friend did AWESOME. And my Garmin is so confused, as it's not accustomed to a 10-minute-mile pace. Maybe one day it will get there again, on my own wrist.)