the hardest run yet

No joke. I don't think I can even begin to explain how hard yesterday was for me. but before I get there, I should write about the fun part of the weekend. Rachel, Ellen and I drove down to Philadelphia for Liz's bridal shower, which was really nice. Beth came too, and I hadn't seen her since graduation. I think Liz really appreciated our effort to make the trip, and we went to Rita's afterwards to have water ice. Ellen and I could not shut up about how great it was during the trip down, and Rachel had enough of us, so we went. It is SO delious. See how happy we were on Saturday? And that was before the trip to Rita's!

Then Sunday came. My hip felt ok as i headed to central park for Grete's Gallop, part of the Norwegian Festival (how much did I love telling Amy that I was going to run in the Norwegian Festival?) TFK was supposed to meet with Grete Waitz, 9 time NYC marathon winner, after the race, so I didn't want to miss that. We were instructed to run easily, have fun, and continue recovering, so I figured this run would be doable. No pressure.

For a few miles, I was ok. My hip felt surprisingly loose and despite the pouring rain (remember that 14-miler I did in a Maine-style monsoon? Sunday morning was kind of like that), I was having fun. Coach Adam gave me a high-five at the halfway point, which helped me start my second loop as the speedracers were already finishing. (I do love being a slowpoke!) Once mile 7 came, though, I started to struggle. Thank goodness Pam was there, because I would've quit without her! With every step, my hip flexor spasmed and I wanted to scream. It took EVERY ounce of determination I had to put one foot in front of the other. Pam was injured, too--I think we really needed each other yesterday. Whenever she had a hard time going downhill due to knee pain and I had to walk uphill because of my hip, we reminded each other how much closer we were to the finish line. Yet another example of that great TFK support--we WERE going to finish together!

By mile 12, I had tears in my eyes from the pain, but I wasn't going to stop running--I was just too close to finishing. With less than half a mile left to go, Betsy came up behind me and told me to sing--I asked her what song had "f***" in it. I don't normally curse, but I definitely let a few out yesterday. By the time I crossed the finish line, urged on by TFK coaches, Frank and other 11:30s who finished before me, I was nauseated and crying. I'm scared to see the pictures that the photographers took as we finished--I just may post them, because the look on my face will be the best description I can give of how I was feeling. Ugh, just writing about it makes me squirm.

Then it was over. Part of me couldn't believe that I'd actually finished. The medic gave me ice and I limped with Pam to the bandshell, where we met up with our other teammates. They were proud of me for finishing, and as always, concerned and supportive when I told them how the race had gone. Pace group mom Nancy ran off to get me a bagel, and we heard that Grete wasn't going to be speaking due to the weather or something. I was a little grateful that she canceled. While I wanted to meet her, I also wanted to collapse in bed. The idea of waking up this morning, with yesterday behind me, was really appealing. God, I hope I never feel the way I did after that run ever again.