After my 17km 'hills' run something changed inside me. The sense of accomplishment I felt that day was so great that I gave myself the "goal achieved" stamp for the 1/2 Marathon. Keeping in mind that I have not raced yet - I think I got too confident.
My 1 year anniversary of running a 5km race was on October 3rd - the Run for the Cure. Mike kindly pointed out to my coworkers that it was my year anniversary, I blushed and off we went. The adrenaline kick I felt at the start was awesome - away we went in a sea of decorated people all running for the same cause. Very inspiring.
I get to the 1/2 way mark of the race and I could feel my face heating up - I started commenting to Mike "Oh, I think I overdressed" and "my stomach hurts" and Mike just smiled and gave me the nodd of "you can do this!". I kept on.
We hit Water street and I was thinking "I can't believe a 5km is THIS hard". I was never so happy to see the home stretch. We were hitting the last portion of the run and I extreme wave of nausea came over me. I suddenly kealed over on the side of the road and gasped for air...Mike rushed over to see what was going on and all I could think of is "get me to the car!". I was never so embarassed.
As I was taking a right to the car, Mike was pulling me left as he insisted that we cross the finish line. Oooohhh, I was mad - probably shot a dirty look BUT walked alongside of him and yes - we crossed the finish line.
At the end of the race I was kicking myself knowing that I didn't prepare. Coffee, Pepsi Max and other treats on my night shift the night before = dehydration. Cocky attitude that "I don't need to prepare" = kealing over at the side of the road dry heaving. Pretty picture.
Ok body/mind - I've learned my lesson. Enough said.
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