onepinkfuzzy

It's hot out. It's hot and I'm tired because I didn't sleep much the night before. I haven't started the race yet but I'm sore and wondering if getting up early enough to go to a yoga class with Elaine was worth it. The yoga class was fantastic - I'd never been to that studio or in a class with that teacher, and I loved it - but Elaine requested backbends and now my back is killing me. And my shoulders. And I haven't started running yet.

C pulls my ring finger out of my mouth, where the nail was firmly entrenched between my teeth. I grab the steering wheel hard and try to concentrate on finding a parking spot. Although I come downtown relatively often for client meetings and to attend my normal yoga classes, I'm not that familiar with the streets. We find a spot and I manage to get my car parked without hitting anyone. I slump over in relief and C laughs at me.

We hoof it over to La Placita, where we attempt to find the starting line. Instead, we find Mike, setting up a PA system. When I ask where the starting line is, he points to a line of masking tape I am standing on. Well, then, I guess we found it.

We follow the sound of live music to find the runners milling around a courtyard. I search for a restroom, then wait nervously for the start of the race. I'm not saying much, I'm too nervous. The nervousness set in about 45 minutes before, a sudden surprise of anxiety. I had forgotten about this race, I wasn't worried about it this week, I wasn't putting much into it. It's hot, I'm recovering from being sick, it's hot, I haven't run much, it's hot, I don't know the course, and did I mention it's hot?

Runners pour through narrow breezeways back over to the starting line and I search out a spot in the back. I can't hear the speaker at the front. I am surprised to see a man wearing a shirt that says, "Blind Runner" on it. I think that's fantastic and smile as the crowd starts moving forward. I attempt to start running around walkers and slow joggers and we get bottlenecked trying to make it through the village and out through El Presidio Park. I am dodging slower runners and attempting to gain some ground here while I am still relatively fresh. We head into the Presidio neighborhood, full of small historic homes. Heat is eminating from the newly paved roads and I am hot. Where's the water? I need water.

We thread our way back over to La Placita, and finally there is water but it's in tiny cups and get just a sip, not enough. I know we are close to where we started and am hoping C is nearby so I can throw him my visor. It's too hot to have anything on my head, and the sun is setting behind tall buildings; I don't need it. I am searching the people lining the course; is he there? Finally, I see him, with the camera, ready to take my picture. I hear him say, "Go Angie!" as I toss my visor. We head behind the Tucson Convention Center, and into the south loop of the course.

Small adobe homes line the streets, leaning on each other for support. Doorways are open and people are sitting on their porches, cheering us on. Wild turkeys chase us as we turn a corner. I ask the people standing there, "Are they meant to make us run faster?" and they laugh at me. I am really hot now, and cannot take deep breaths. I am hacking - damn this chest congestion - and I have to walk for a short distance. My hip is hurting, I am worried about the pain. There is no breeze, it is stifling hot and I can feel it inside me, building.

Finally we turn into the breeze, and start heading back towards downtown. The sun is setting behind periwinkle clouds, a soft pastel sunset with pink and orange smeared across the horizon. The breeze gives me hope, lifts my spirits. I look at the tall buildings downtown, I see the brightly colored buildings of La Placita in the foreground and I smile. My hip hurts, nm body aches, I am overheated and I am happy. I love living in Tucson, I love being a part of this vibrant city, and I love partaking in a rare downtown race.

Finally I reach the last corner, where folks are just standing there, quietly. I move my hands up, up, in a sign of "cheer for me" and the crowd makes noise. Thank you, I needed that! I turn the corner and there's the finish. I kick hard and hear C yelling, "Go Angie!" and I cross the line in 33:46. I think I'm going to vomit, I left everything I had out on the course, and still I only managed 33:46. I care, but I know I'm coming off being sick, I know it's hot, I know it's a slow course. So I don't mind too much.

There is lots of food from downtown vendors, I eat brownies and pizza and pepsi and cookies. I chow down while we talk with Mike and players from C's soccer team. It is fun, a great community, I love being out and about with people. We finally head over to the Fox Theatre for the awards and raffle. I cheer for Jason who won the race, and Mike who won his age group (even though he was "taking it easy"). Finally they start the movie - Chariots of Fire - and I realize that I cannot understand a word anyone is saying on screen. The accents are thick (I usually have to use closed captioning on my tv at home to watch British movies, that's how bad my ears are), and the sound is not great. After 20 minutes, I ask C if he minds if we head home. I am tired and sore and frustrated because I cannot understand what anyone is saying. It's like watching a foreign film without the subtitles.

Once home, I lie across the bed. I am tired, exhausted. It was fun but I am cranky because I used up all the energy I had and my hip is bothering me. There is no way I can run 13 miles on the mountain the next day.

I enjoyed this race - it was fun. But tiring.

UPDATE
After a depressing bout of swimsuit shopping on Sunday (I did manage to find a good suit after two hours of sweaty shopping and trying on about 50 different pieces (much to the fittin room attendant's chagrin)), I headed out for 7.75 miles on the Sabino Canyon road. It was hot, but not as hot as the last time I was out there. Besides, the heat means I get warmed up quicker, right? :) I went slow (avg pace 13:29/mile), and I was sore, but it was a good run. Smelling the sun-baked desert, ducking my head under water faucets, feeling my body move - fantastic. I walked the last .75 as a cool down, which I think contributed to my legs feeling okay this morning. I wanted an ice bath to help my hip, but I wasn't able to. Oh well.

Packing tonight and then a quick run tomorrow morning before we head to the Grand Canyon!