Worst. Run. Ever. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to run. But I didn’t want to quit, either.

I haven’t been getting much sleep and when I finally get to bed, the quality of sleep is poor. When my alarms went off Sunday morning, I was exhausted. I got up and took my time getting ready. I just wasn’t in the mood for anything. I kept forgetting things, like filling up my water bottles.

We drove to Georgetown– near Water Street– and parked. The goal: 15 miles. It’s only one mile more than last week’s run. But I dreaded it.

I kept stalling. I wanted one more hug, another moment to stretch, or having re-tie my shoes. Finally, it was inevitable. I had to run.

It had rained all night. The ground was wet and muddy, but the trail was clean. There was a refreshing breeze. Any other time, it would be the ideal situation for running.

As soon as I began, I felt like weights were strapped to my feet. There was already pain in my left hip and leg. It took me more than 10 minutes to complete the first mile. Then I took a two minute walking break. Second mile– same thing. I ran for 10 minutes and then took a walking break. By the third mile I could barely breath. The air was thick and for a moment I wondered whether this is what asthma felt like. I drank some water, ate a Gu Chomp and kept going.

I don’t remember when I started to run consistently, but I did so only briefly. I felt pain on the bottom of my feet, like glass. My IT Bands throbbed, and I even felt pain in my hips. I started saying “ouch” out loud. I kept playing mind games with myself. I’d say, run the next mile and then take a walking break. But it didn’t help. I must have walked half the time if not more.

I turned around in Bethesda and not even a half mile later I saw Patrick. He was easy to spot because he was wearing a red shirt and bright orange shorts. It didn’t match, but I could see him a mile away– literally. We high-fived. It looked like he had a lot of energy. I hoped he was doing better than I was.

He’s the only reason I kept going. I didn’t want him to pass me. By the time I got back to Fletcher’s Cove, I needed to big break. I used the rest room (which was pretty nice when compared to an out house– meaning they had sinks with running water). I kept looking around for Patrick. I was hoping to run with him the rest of the way. But I didn’t know whether he was still behind me, or whether he passed me up.

At some point, the run felt easier. But all that’s a blur now. Running was a struggle. But when I walked, I felt like my feet were shuffling through quick sand. I just couldn’t move fast. I was so disappointed with myself.

I started to question whether my body could handle a marathon. When I tried to train for one two years ago, I only made it to 16 miles before injuries caused me to stop completely. I’m only one mile away from 16. Is it going to happen again? Am I going to get injured and have to drop out? It would be devastating. I would realize I was thinking about all this and have to force myself to change the subject.

I also kept thinking about work. I was picking up a night shift and would have to be there by 3 pm. What kind of shape would I be in? Would I be done running in time? What story will I have to cover, and will I be able to focus? Again, I would realize I was thinking about all this and again would force myself to change my thoughts.

Then I didn’t know what to think. I kept stopping and walking. I changed my music from my running songs to Elton John ballads. Then I’d turn my music off. Then I’d try my running music again. I’d even sing. Nothing seemed to work.

When I had only one mile left, I wanted to run. I wanted to finish strong. That lasted for about 10 steps, then I was walking again. I finally spotted Patrick and went to him so we could finish together. But he was already done because he ran a little farther than I did back in Bethesda. I stopped my watch. The time: 3 hours and 8 minutes. Horrible.

I was sad, disappointed, tired, and in pain. I tried to stretch near our car. A woman in a minivan pulled up close to us and asked us how we did. I told her it was hard, but we finished. She asked us how many miles. We said 15 and she responded with congratulations. She said she saw me running near the boat dock on Water Street. She said it made her feel good to see me running, since her son was just starting his training. She was very nice and made me feel better about my 15 miles.

Sure, it wasn’t the greatest run and certainly not my best time. But I traveled 15 miles on foot. I ran from Georgetown to Bethesda and back. I didn’t give up.

For whatever reason, my body didn’t cooperate and my mind wasn’t in the race. It comes down to mental blocks I created. Next week I plan to run 17 miles. It will be my farthest distance. I’m feeling pretty good about it, because there is no way it could be worse than Sunday’s run.

SUMMARY
LOCATION: Capital Crescent Trail
TIME: 3:08
PACE: 12:32
WHAT I’LL REMEMBER MOST: Being tired.

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