So where did I leave off? Oh yes: Mile 10 made me realize I was on a suicide mission. I just got tired, that's really the only way to explain it. My mind was all "You can do this, you can! Keep going!" but my body was all "Shoo gurl, I is tired, enough wit dis runnin' sh*t." I have never been one to complain about the hills of Memphis because, well, there aren't any. But as I came up to the 1% incline on Poplar just before LeBonheur Children's Hospital, I swear to you, I was either delirious or the road ACTUALLY morphed into a 15,000 foot tall volcano of death. I know Memphis is not known for volcanoes, but I swear to you, I am not making this up. I just put my head down, distracted myself with a GU gel, and tried to think of something else... like elephants, my favorite childhood outfit, and my future/non-existent wedding day- anything that randomly flew into my head and distracted me from the lava surrounding me as I plowed up the volcano on Poplar Ave in Downtown Memphis. Add it to your list of tourist attractions the next time you come visit.
Once I made it past the volcano, I began to feel a little better. Then the 1/2 marathon group slipt off. As I approached the giant flashing lights saying " <---- FULL MARATHON, HALF MARATHON ---> " I kinda felt all badass and super-hero, like "Yea, that's right, I am going left, what of it? Ain't no thang, just runnin' a marathon!" I felt like I was the center of attention of the entire world at that moment, making the (insane) decision to go left, to pass the point of no return. That whole super-hero feeling lasted about, oh, I'd say 23 seconds- until I realized that the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd of runners AND the streets lined with spectators were a thing of the past. Cue western theme music and tumbleweeds. Again, maybe I was delirious or hidden speakers ACTUALLY started playing Celien Dion's "All By Myself", I don't know. I am beyond the point of trying to decipher what actually did happen during the race and what was a byproduct of my running-induced psychotic break that began around mile 10.
Miles 12-15 were so... effing... boring. Literally in the Memphis ghetto, not a spectator in sight, maybe 4 runners ahead of and behind me within eyesight... I'm not gonna lie, it sucked ass. Luckily, I had my killer music to keep me going. I had a little dance party in my head, and that kept me from crying of loneliness.
How was I feeling? My ankles were fine, oddly enough. My right knee/IT band was in pain. My lips were so chapped. It was starting to get pretty hot out. I was slowing down a bit, but I was still at about a 12 minute pace.
At mile 16 I saw Kevin and Maureen. All I could say was "My lips hurt real bad, I need chapstick." Those are the only words that I could form into a sentence that would make sense. But, again, seeing them made my heart fill with doodles of butterflies and hearts and flowers, which carried me 1 more mile until I saw Eszter and got another photo shoot.
At mile 17.5, I think I met Jesus. There was a bartender from the Slider Inn standing on the corner handing out cups of beer. I literally stopped running, stood in front of him, and asked, "Is that beer?" "You betcha! Want one?" "Will you marry me?" I took the beer, pounded it, threw the cup, screamed, and moved on. Yes. That's right. I drank a beer at mile 17. HOW BADASS AM I?!
When I got to mile 18, I was all "Wow, hey, check this out, from here on out, every single step I take is the farthest I have ever run!" That was cool and all, and I basked in that glory for a good 5 minutes, but I could feel myself quickly approaching THE WALL. Oh dear, the wall. That lovely mythical running nightmare. Well, let me tell you, my friends, IT AINT NO MYTH. Literally, one minute I was feeling like 7 more miles was totally doable, and the next minute I was getting ready to call a cab and ask him to bring an axe to cut my legs off. Instead, I called Omar for a pep-talk. That was much more productive.
It was hot as balls now. The sun was frying me- who things to put on sunblock for a race in friggin' December?! Not this girl. Bring on the farmer's tan. I started taking 2 cups at each water station- 1 to drink, and 1 to throw over my head and face like a sexy super model. I actually pictured myself in slow motion as I did it, shaking my head from side to side, looking all sensual... again, psychotic delusions running rampant, cuz lord knows I was the furthest thing from a Playboy model at that point.
I saw the cheerleaders at mile 20.5ish, and this picture says it all, I don't even need to explain:
I think I may have actually been telling Kevin to find a crossbow and put me out of my misery, not sure. Ask him.
OK that is all you get for now. Bye!
