Tuesday, March 13, 2007

first race of 2007

so i did my first race of the season on sunday -- the sneezer rodney half-marathon. it was considerably gnarly for no other reasons than my own fucktardery. i haven't been training conscientiously, for one, and then i let a bunch of friends talk me into going rock-climbing the day before. we had a grand time, but my shoulders and traps were burning the next morning. it was like that time i went halibut fishing in alaska the day before the homer half-marathon. if you've never fished for halibut trust me when i say the challenge isn't in catching the fish, it's pulling that fucker up from 300ft. ronan the first mate likened the process to pulling a cadillac up from the ocean floor and after nearly weeping with fatigue pulling up a 23lb specimen i have to agree. [the fact that ronan sniffed disdainfully and pronounced my prize a "chicken halibut" before loosing it back into the sea only added insult to injury.] the next day i could barely lift my arms to pull on my sports bra, and when i ran i looked like those girls that do that goofy irish step-dancing with their arms at their sides.

after i blew out my upper body rock-climbing, we went to the Victory Brew Pub, which produces some great stout: thick with smokey chocolate and a bit of a bite, both in taste & alcohol content. i was okay with a handful of pints, but then somebody suggested shots of absolut red [and the red don't stand for desi(red)] and from thence the evening went rapidly downhill. i know i got home somehow because when the alarm woke me at 6:30 i was in my bed. i like when magical shit like that happens. if you make it home safely when you're twelve-cocked like that there are definitely gods at work.

i was still a little pished when i got up: i pitched from room to room looking for my glasses (on my nose of course) and i forgot what the lights on the espresso machine meant. i tried to center myself with some vinyasa yoga but every downward-facing dog re-introduced my petite fillet dinner. and when i filled out my race entry form i was so woozy and weak that the promoter couldn't read my chicken scratch and filed me as a male.

yet despite all this crapola, the day was actually quite lovely, with plenty of sun that felt so good on winter skin. nothing failed acutely: my hamstring, posterior tib and iliac artery all performed admirably and anymore those are my criteria for a satisfying run. i saw friends and training partners i haven't seen in months, and even though i couldn't remember their names and offered a neanderthal grunt in response, i appreciated them cheering for me. finally, there is nothing like a brisk run for detox.

with the exception of 2 slower miles on the hills, i ran an even pace through the race, with the 2nd half just 10sec slower than the first. i averaged just under a 7min mile to finish with a chip time of 1:29:35 (officially at 1:29:47), 12th out of 363 chicks, cos yes i am one even when i'm shit-faced. i didn't even stick around for the awards; i beelined from the finish line to my car to some V8 and then the sofa where i drooled all over the pillows for about 2 hours.

my body did retaliate yesterday at about 10am when i was visited with explosive diarrhea, the kind that makes you beg off work because NO ONE should bear witness to that. when i got home i raced to the can and released such a blast that the dog began to howl from the kitchen. he howls when the birdsong clock chimes on the hour, and i think he thought i was leading a new call, like that of a striped poofisher.

yes indeed, a very auspicious start to the 2007 racing season. first duathlon -- and qualifier for short-course worlds -- is in 2 weeks. i gotta start training.


fatmammycat said...

I guessed right, poor old sausage. Lots of water and dry crackers for you old girl.

finn said...

i believe it's that smithwicks come back to haunt me -- you did say it was tricksy! i knew i should have stuck with the black stuff.

addon said...

you're blazing a trail, finn, that's the thing to do - do not go quietly into that sodding fight. or somefink.

Brown Suga' said...

12th of 363 chicks sounds amazing to me, d00dette. Sorry to hear about the pains and aches, though. Wishing you good health and luck.