ALL BY MYSELF

MY SECOND 20

Second 20 mile run. By myself. I'm not going to lie--it was hard. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I just felt drained. I took my iPod with me as I was worried about how I'd stay engaged without Alison, but, wouldn't you know it, the batteries died around mile 10. So, there I was, stuck carrying my iPod in my hand with another 10 miles to go.

I have a love / hate relationship with Central Park. I feel it's my home away from home, my church, my nemesis, my support. I know the loops too well, I know the cat is going to be there taunting me, I know the west side incline on the north is going to frustrate me and I'm going to want to give up every time, but I keep going because I won't let it defeat me. When I hit mile 10 (the same time my iPod gave out) I decided to add a loop around the reservoir just to shake things up as I was really starting to hate the park, so at mile 13 I turned into the entrance of the reservoir around 86th street, hit the fountain, waved to that dude who I'm not convinced is really alive, the old man who has run many marathons and they have information about his life posted, why can't I remember his name? Anyway, I started mile 14, thought I'd do three loops and finish the last two on the street. After the first loop I was irritated with the reservoir, I was tired of being in the park, I just had to get out of there. So, with 5 miles to go I ran down the east side, back up the west and exited out 72nd street.

On the street I discovered my irritation wasn't just with the park, but with everything. The sounds of cars, the people walking down the street, the smells of the vendors. Everything was bothering me. I wanted to scream or hit someone, or laugh really loud in an obnoxious, scarry way. But, I trudged on, one foot in front of the other. I tried to think of how I'd feel when I finished; then I thought about what I'd eat for dinner. My knee hurt. I had a horrible cramp in my side. Around the last two miles I passed a man who felt compelled to encourage me, I must've looked like I was in pain. He said "You can do it" and, while I appreciated the support, I wanted to punch him. It wasn't personal. I was just tired and pissed off for no reason other than I was at the end of a really hard run, and the end wasn't coming fast enough.

At my street I "crossed the finish line" and walked to my door just a few steps away. As soon as I got in the elevator I cried. It was the first time since I started training that I really questioned why the hell I was doing this. I collected myself before entering the apartment as I didn't want to scare Kirk with my tears. I was fine, just emotionally and physically run down, literally.