I wanted to sweep this week under the rug and pretend it never happened. But, this blog was created not only to report my progress in running, but also the lack of it. So, here I am, upholding the true spirit of blogdom.
According to plan, I should have been typing up a Race Report right about now, instead of an excuse of a report. You see, a week after I signed up for the Long Branch Half Marathon, I toyed with the idea of running a shorter race as a training run. This weekend was most convenient, so it was between the Millburn Spring Run (10K & 2 Mile) and the St. Paddy's 10 Mile & Leprechaun 5K. DH decided to do the shorter distance in either case, while I would do the longer. The more I thought about it, the more I leaned toward the 10 miler. It was a scenic route; it would mean DH could do at least 3 miles (2 miles is hardly a distance); and online registration was available. I can't imagine having to deal with the US Post Office again, after my recent ordeal. But, for some reason, I didn't register; decided to register on race day.
Believe me, I absolutely decided to go through with it.
I was pumped up about it.
I did a semi-taper (The only running I had done this week was 5 miles on Monday, 4 miles on Tuesday and 2 very easy miles yesterday).
I did not join the group on their Saturday morning run (I really missed that; it's been 2 weeks in a row now).
We regretfully declined an invitation from a friend for a dinner, drinks and movie night on Saturday, so we could crash early the night before race day.
I did a bit of carb-loading yesterday, filling up on Hyderabadi biryani (though I was not entirely sure if carb loading would help or hurt me on a 10-miler).
I checked out the race day weather (beautiful...no reason not to run) and printed out directions.
I even laid out my race clothes last night (that should have given me a hint...I never do that).
Yesterday, DH wavered. And pretty soon, instead of trying to convince him to do it, I became wishy-washy too. We postponed the decision to this morning. Bad idea! 6 am, when all you want to do is to go back to la-la land, is not the time to make a decision about a race. I mumbled that we should just go back to sleep and DH readily agreed. So, I not only DNS (Did Not Start), I DNEMITTS (Did Not Even Make It To The Start). Groan!
I awoke later, feeling guilty and ready to discharge all the carbs I had loaded last night. I printed directions to Colonial Park, where I could complete my 10 scenic miles. Just as I was heading out the door, I heard DH sniffling. He had come down with a cold. And of course, dutiful wife that I am, I felt compelled to make him cardamom tea and french onion soup. Then join him for breakfast. And by the time I was ready to run, it was too late for Colonial Park. I settled for 7 miles in the neighborhood, where I've run thousands of times before. You know you've run the same tired route too many times when the same dogs that snarled at you from the other side of a fence just eye you lazily and nod a greeting (except the Siberian husky (he sure looks like one), who I am convinced will vault over the fence one day and rip me to shreds).
So, instead of being cheered on by dozens of spectators at the race (I can dream, can't I?), the only distraction on my run was a slightly chewed-up condom decorating someone's driveway.
Hope you all had a more productive weekend! Look forward to reading about your races/long runs, Lauren, Cindy, Beachrunner, Laurel, and participants of the Hooray Spring 6 Miler.