Maximus Pain

The first Saturday in October, as hot, as humid as the first Saturday of August on that fishing boat at our friend's wedding, and yet, it feels like those icy branches are gripping from the inside the outside of my left thigh--Yes, I've pulled my gluteus maximus. I went to Stony w/ Lou and Tony at the ripe time of 7:20 a.m. this morn. We were supposed to do 12 miles. I covered 12 miles, but didn't run them all. After it felt like the steel claw of a determined terminator gripped my left butt cheek, every time I tried to run, especially up hill, I yelped (and swore a few times) in pain and had to do some limp walking. So I ran a good seven and limp walked a good five.

I was doing so great the first six miles. Wow--how beautiful Stony is in the a.m. I looked to my right going over one of the bridges and the water looked like a pastel painting--glossy but w/ a bit of fog and muted oranges and reds spreading across the calm surface of the water. It was so transcending and I was listening to James Taylor: "I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend. But I always thought that I'd see you again." It's about one of his friends, Suzanne, who died in a plane crash. "You've got look down upon me Jesus, you got help me make amends. I can't make it any other way. My body's aching and my time is at hand. You've just got see me through another day. OOOH I've seen fire and I've seen rain." and I was now into the forest and the trees made a canopy above me and I was going up a hill, feet in closer arms pumping higher and at the top of the hill the trees gave way and I could see rays of the sun beaming down in streaks through the clouds--like prisms from God and I almost cried it was so beautiful and suddenly nothing but beauty matter, nothing but this flying feeling and God and the beauty that he makes for us and how he is there in everything around and in us. I realized I didn't need anything but this, this moment.
As you can see, the running high was kicking in. I felt high and dizzy at the same time. Holy humidity--when I looked down at my fingers they were so puffed up I thought I'd never get my rings off--they hurt they were so puffed. I poured some of my water on my face and when some fell into my mouth I tasted an ocean--so much salt. At mile four, I started to worry that I had edema and maybe that one sickness our coach told us about where you feel drunk because your brain is swelling from too much water and not enough electrolytes and salt.

I stopped my worrying brain by reminding myself that at the TNT water stop one of our runners said she had intense shin splits, real painful. When I told her maybe she should walk, she shook her head. "Too stubborn huh?" I said.
"Yeah," she grinned.
I knew what she meant (trail racing on a sprained ankle counts as stubborn too). So I dropped it.

Anyway, I shook of my growing fear of getting drunk on brain swell by remembering her stoicism. Runners are not wimps. So I turned the music up and flowed with it and tried to enjoy the humidity inspired dizziness--speeding down hills with longer strides and slowing my way up hills with shorter strides and higher arm position. Ken in my head directing me. "Let gravity pull you down" I felt my legs just revolve under me and leaned more to my toes. The left side of my left butt cheek started to ache--but it wasn't an intense pinching/gripping pain yet. It seared more up hills, so I slowed a bit and then made up for it down hills.

I got some food w/ salt in me at the 6 mile stop and stretched. Then off refreshed and running. For the first time, my legs failed me before my lungs and before my spirit. At mile seven they began to feel like unbendable stumps of wood-like rigermortous had set in and I would soon fall on my face while trying to move forward on unmovable legs. I had to stop and walk and walking felt more painful because I could feel even more how stiff my legs moved. I picked up the run again at a down hill and, just as a mother on her bike and a daughter in front of her on her legs trotted behind me, a sudden pain gripped my left thigh. I yelped loudly and the mother and daughter (whom I didn't hear because of my blaring I-pod) past me as I limped to a walk and then "shit!" slipped from my mouth before I saw the young, startled girl pass me on the left.

From then on I walked and jogged in intervals of a quarter mile, each quarter run more painful, until I saw Tony running toward me. "Oh. This is what I have been dreading. Oh, I am so embarrassed," I said to myself as soon as I saw his blue singlet. I thought I was so slow he had run to find me to see if I had fallen into a ditch. But when he yelled out "Can you see the mile marker? Point it out!" I realized he was on his last four miles--two out and back to make 14 miles. When he reached me, I told him about my pain and he asked if I needed help getting back-if he should stay w/ me or get a car. I said no, I'll walk back. I walked the rest of the way in, slower with each step. It hurt to walk even--and especially up hills. I walked fast on the down and slow on the up. I didn't stop at stop signs--I was in so much pain I felt like a dumb beast and didn't care if a car hit me.

When I got to the 12 mile mark, Lou, Jim, Lisa, and Tony were waiting. As I got within a few feet of the TNT flag, Jim rang the cowbell for the second time and despite my pain it made me grin. I was done! I had promised him that he would ring the cowbell twice for me: once at the 6 mile mark and again at the 12.

On the car ride home, Lou told me that I was limping in so slowly that as soon as they saw me, Lisa told him to ring the bell. Tony retorted that he would be ringing it for ten minutes with how slow I was going. Jim, ever proud of his bell skills, said, "I know when to ring it!!" and he did ring it at the perfect time.

When I got home I took an ice bath and it actually felt good--my left thigh doesn't hurt as badly.

I will run a very slow and careful three miles tom at 7 a.m. with Tonya from TNT.

Totals for this week:
Sunday: 6
Thursday: 5
Saturday: 12 (w/ only 7 ran)
Total: 23 covered (18 ran)