Hurricane Irene was not going to stand in the way of my 20-miler last Saturday. I had to alter my plans slightly once I learned that the MTA was suspending subway service starting at noon due to the storm. There was no way that I was going to get all the way uptown, complete a 20-mile run, and make it back to Brooklyn before noon. I was all set to do the run by myself, but then my fantastic pace group leader put me in touch with another Gallo who was planning to run in Brooklyn. We talked and agreed to meet up at 5:15am the next morning to run loops in Prospect Park. Boring, but there are water fountains and bathrooms. She even said she was going to use her car as an "aid station" so we could stop and refuel along the way.
She arrived right on time the next morning to pick me up, and we found a space right near the park. She brought me a poncho as a present, and I was really hoping that I wouldn't have to use it. The car was stocked with water, gatorade and snacks--better than anything I could've asked for. And I had company for the run. Awesome!
As we got started, my very sweet and generous running companion immediately began divulging very personal information. Don't get me wrong, this happens sometimes during a long run. You figure, hey, I've got all the time in the world, why not get to know the group? But there's a line, and my companion's disclosures were very close to crossing said line. I learned, for example, all about her ex-boyfriend's efforts to seduce her after they'd split, all the issues she had with injuries and blisters, and how she'd lost 70 pounds by walking in Prospect Park. (Very impressive, plus she knew everyone we passed all morning long). All of her stories came down to minute detail. She was a talker (a loud, enthusiastic talker, at that). I thought to myself, "I'm not sure I can do this for 20 miles." But then again, all her chatter meant that I didn't really need to respond. Plus, I appreciated the company. So on we went. Rather than be annoyed by it, I decided to find the humor in it. I'm telling you, you can't make this up.
After a couple of loops of the park, we were joined by a friend of my running companion. Her friend was a relatively new runner preparing for a half marathon this fall. She joined us for a loop and a half or so, and it was great to have her with us. I watched my running companion transform into running coach (she runs a wellness program at her job, and that's how she knew this friend of hers). I appreciated the break from the tell-all I'd been hearing before, and I was even more excited to stop at our "aid stop" once we hit mile 10.
I definitely didn't want to run 3 more loops of the park after already running 10 miles. (My plan was for a total of 6 loops, 19.8 miles. That's almost 20. And there was a hurricane coming. Good enough). The Oreo I had at the aid stop gave me a little boost, though, and we were off. My companion's plan was to run 18, so she joined me for another loop and a half and then bid me farewell, planning to cut across the transverse to finish up. On our last loop together, her feet were bothering her, so she took her shoe off to give it a break (all the while reminding me of her blister prevention routine). As soon as she did, she exclaimed "Oh, relief! I feel like I just made love!" I almost fell over laughing. She then made a comment about how it was like I walked in on my mother (which, luckily, I have never done). I was hysterical and horrified at the same time.
Anyway, I recovered from that episode and kept going. We were caught in a brief shower, which felt good to me, but she decided to turn around and get her poncho out of the car. Honestly, I was kind of grateful to do a loop and a half on my own (I was at mile 15 by that time) and have some quiet. On my last loop, though, my feet started to drag, and I had to shuffle after each of my walk breaks in order to start running again. The weather was also not cooperating. It would rain, and then stop, and then pour, then stop. On the home stretch of my last loop, the skies opened up and drenched me. I had to wring out my shirt and hat. Just as I turned the corner and thought, "Why am I not done with this loop yet?" I saw my fellow poncho-clad Gallo waiting for me at the 20 mile mark, holding my poncho and an Oreo cookie. As she saw me, she yelled out, "We started together, and we're going to finish together!" Then she wouldn't let me stop until I hit the 20 mile mark according to her Garmin (those few trips to the aid stop got me from 19.8 to 20). Oh, that Oreo cookie was delicious and I was so happy to be done. I promptly went home, stretched, and then proceeded to lay around like a slug for the next two days. Thank you, Hurricane Irene, for that.
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