Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Flat Busted

I ran a DNF this morning. 

Ever had one of those weeks where you are in a foreign country at 78 degrees and sea level on Wednesday and on Thursday you’re back home and it’s sleeting and Sunday it’s 58 and sunny and by Tuesday at 0500 Eastern Daylight savings time you realize that your lungs are complaining and your right calf is twitching and you haven’t even started your run yet?


Me either.

So, I wasn't Dead Ass Last this morning for most of the run... until I was..

At mile 4.6 I was so far off the peloton that I realized that they weren’t going to come back for me because they didn’t know I was still back there. Most of the slower runners had turned to take the shorter route back by that point.

I was alone in the dark and kinda disappointed.

To Be Clear:  I’m not upset with the Back To Last Crew.

It’s no one’s fault but my own for not pushing myself to keep up.  I was just too far gone at that point.  I'm not sure when it went to hell exactly, but I think it was somewhere around mile 4.  That's when I looked at my watch and realized I had no business expecting anyone to come back for me.  

My pace was just too far off the mark.

I was also slightly over dressed. I did everything I could during the run to cool myself off.  I pushed up my sleeves. I unzipped my ¾ zip top. Nothing helped.

I was busted.

So at mile 5.5 I turned off my watch and walked the short distance back to the coffee shop where the Rogue Runners meet. I sat down and had a pleasant coffee with some nice guys who I’ve known for years, and some new friends who I met today.  

It was funny though, after coffee I commented to my friend that today in particular the guys were way nicer than usual. He chuckled, pointed out my generalized hotness, and then we discussed the politics of meeting new people.

He also said there were definitely some available men at Rogue, if I was looking for a guy to guy around with.

“Nope. I’m not interested. At all. I’m just here to run.”

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy runners. I think they’re great. Most of the time they’re hot. And generally I find runners to be among the friendliest people in the world. They will invite you for a run with them, even if they don’t know you. Even if you're in a foreign country. Or California.

Seriously, runners are the best.

But, "Guys" are not why I get up at oh dark hour and torture myself on the streets of Richmond several times a week.

When I got home this morning I was still thinking about the great conversation, and I saw myself in the mirror. I gasped. I didn’t see hotness; I saw a hot sweaty mess. I also saw why the guys were super friendly today. The ¾ zip was pretty low, and between that and the post run glow, I wasn’t just busted, I was busting out.


~savor the run~


bobbi said...

hmmm...reading your last paragraph, and then reflecting that maybe the title of your post is a little inaccurate? ;)

carrie said...

^^ROFL Bobbi!!!