Little Miss Runner Pants

oh holy hell.

i got my ASS handed to me last night.

and i still hurt.

yesterday this dude California Guy, another T3 type who's faster than shit, emailed me to see if i'd like to go for a little training run with him after J&A Core.

training run. me. and a dude a foot taller than me. who's super fast.
suuuuuure. i don't see how that could possibly go wrong. i'll DO IT!

well folks guess what..

i'm an IDIOT!

after Core i found Cali Guy in the parking lot and was all ready for our easy run.

easy.
our e.a.s.y. run.

the convo went something like this...

"hey how ya doin!? you ready to get started!?"
"hey! sure! um.. how far were you thinking about going?!"
"oh i dunno... somewhere between eight and ten miles"

@($*&$#@($)(%$&(@#(%*$$@&

*ahem*

"uh... ha. HA! um. oh. uhhh... " ... fuck me fuck me fuck me.. "umm.. yeah. really?!"

luckily this dude's a bit brighter than i am, so he caught onto my ohshitimgunnadie overall demeanor and shortened his projected run distance down to a 5k.

thank you god. i will never do anything horrible again. i love you.

as we headed out of the parking lot towards Town Lake i gently reminded him.. "um, yeah. you know i'm slow, right? like really slow? like.. i don't run fast? you know that right?

RIGHT?!"

he didn't know that.

!%$@

he assured me, several times, that it was fine. no big deal. he wasn't looking to kill himself out there today so no pressure.

again. let me reiterate my overall thought throughout this run...

@!#%$&*#&@&#*%$&$&#@*$$&$&#*#

yeah.

but so we take off, off and running, and immediately i can tell....
a) i'm starting too fast. i'm going way too fast, there's no way i'm going to last half an hour. i'm screwed. i'm really screwed
b) he's barely running.
c) shit.

California Guy... he's a really nice guy. probably really great at conversation. but i wouldn't know that. because every question he asked, every comment he made... i couldn't respond with more than a grunt. a few words spilled forth as i gasped for air. i was a lousy conversationalist and running companion.

i wanted. to die.

what felt like 19 years into our run, i ever so non-chalantly asked about what we were averaging.

"oh.. about 9:30's"

i almost threw up.

i knew we were only more or less half way. if that. and i knew the rumbly in my tummy that was screaming at me to SLOW THE FUCK DOWN would have to continue to be ignored.

i was soldiering on.

about 10 minutes from the end, though... we stopped under the bridge for some water, and i thought we were almost done.

i mean.. i more or less thought we were done. so when he offered to stop and walk... i said "fuck it. lets go"

BUT I DIDNT KNOW!!!!

i didn't know i still had till mars and back to get to my car. that i still had 10ish minutes of running left. not two or three. TEN. or if you ask me it felt more like forty three!

fick. fick. fick. fick.

we compromised. he convinced me to walk up the ramp that got us to the top of the bridge, and then... run it in.

*sigh*

i was really struggling to survive. BUT!!! we made it across the bridge. after asking 3, 4, 9 more times how far we'd gone (i was not running more than 3.1 miles, dammit!) we finally crossed the bridge and made it to the last street that headed to my blessed blessed resting spot.

"oh"... deep breath... "kay"... deep breath.. "now"... "how far"... "have we gone"... "?"

"ohhhh, about 3.3 miles"

screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech

i came to a dead stop. 3.3 miles!!?! that is MORE than a 5k! i. am. DONE!

i wanted to cry i was so fetching tired.
i asked how long it took us and he figured about 29 minutes.

twenty nine.

less than THIRTY minutes.

my fastest 5k to date is something like 33 and change.

TWENTY NINE MINUTES!!?!!

friggin sweet.

that sucked.
but the end result... was friggin sweet.

i thanked him for being my pacer from hell, he thanked me for being so damn slow it required him to take it easy, and then when he asked if i'd be up for another loop....

i punched him in the face.

....or said HELL NO.

one of the two.