NYRR 18M Tune-Up

The morning started off with a "Babe, it's 5:06". My alarm was supposed to go off at 3:30. I was supposed to be on a train uptown for 5. We should all know where this is heading. I miraculously got ready in 10 minutes, grabbed coffee at the bodega, only to realize my Metrocard was empty and my debit card was in my apartment. FML. So, I decided to take my time getting ready and I would just run 17 miles in the park at my leisure (the race was for 18 and I didn't realize it was an 18 mile race, not a race what you want, which I thought all the tune-ups were; or did I just make that up?). 

When I finally got to the train, another runner spotted my D-tag and asked if we could make it. I laughed. She said she had been waiting for the train for 37 minutes (so even if I would've been on time, I would've been pissed I was waiting). I decided to travel up to the race with her; if I wasn't going to be the only late one, we could try. Miraculously, the 6 came ASAP and we were on a train full of runners. We got there for 6:48. I still have no idea how that could've happened but it did.

Don't worry I was still late. Why? Because I decided to stand in a bathroom line even though I didn't have to go. I crossed the start line as the announcers said they were picking up the start mats. What a way to start my 1st 18 miler race.

Note: 1st time you run 18 miles, it shouldNOT be a race and it shouldNOT be alone. It was a miserable time. More like, I think that should be a new torture treatment for al-qaeda actually. I was playing f-ed up mind games with myself from the moment I got on the course. I was "fine" until I was finishing my 2nd loop of the park and everyone else was finishing the race (Did I forget to mention this was 3 loops of Central Park? I won't even run races that are only 2 loops). Starting that 3rd loop aka Harlem Hill was the beginning of the melt down. It took everything in me not to ball up in the grass right there. I knew it was going to be insane to think I'd finish before they picked up the mats, but I kept going, promising myself I could fall apart at the end. Thank you to the runners who were encouraging, you have no idea how much those little words meant at that time.

Then, the universe sent me another miracle. I finished seconds before they picked up the mats. A minute later I was on the phone in tears. It was a bad bad run and I was in a lot of pain. Even though I spent the majority of the race telling myself to stop being so hard on myself, to just enjoy it and continuing to repeat "I am doing the best I can", it didn't help the fact that I felt like a failure.

I don't know about you, but being a slower runner I, unfortunately, happen to beat myself up about it. A lot. Especially training alone. Deep down I know it's an amazing thing to be able to finish 18 miles, it just takes me a day or 2 to allow myself that victory. Clearly, the masochism has found a new channel. I'm working on it.

In the middle of my meltdown, I decided I needed a really fucking big present for finishing. . . and then I remembered, I already have one.

This weekend :-)

How do you stop beating up yourself on a run/ prevent meltdowns?