Day 4 (part 2)

"I ain't heard no fat lady."

~Will Smith, Independence Day









Lab meeting went until 4:50 PM, at which time I poked my head around the corner of the department entrance to see the weather outside. Pouring rain. Big, fat, hard rain. It was already looking dark, too; it looked like winter. I remembered the pain in my legs, the pain from the morning, and shuddered. Can I do this? I thought to myself, over and over and over. It was more daunting than standing on the beach before Ironman--I was well prepared for that challenge. This, this is new territory.

I spent the day hydrating and eating. I always had some fluid going in, right up through lab meeting, even. Water, tea, juice or sports drink were my constant companions this day. I should have been hydrating to this extent all week. It is not to say I did not hydrate well, but I have a feeling hat I am depleting much more than I imagined, and that probably took a toll in the mornings BONK.

It was grim as I walked out of the building, into the driving wetness that seemed to penetrate every pore of my skin. Instantly, my world was one of water. Somehow, though, my feet stayed relatively dry. The benefit of being in constant motion, I guess. I walked out and up the stairs and to the ramp over Pacific street, on the north side of the Health Sciences complex. I stopped at the Burke Gilman trail, and took a deep breath. It was shaky. I was really nervous.

As predicted, as soon as I started to run, the pain returned. This time, I decided to see what happened if I kept running. The pain was a tightness, as if the muscles in my legs were covered in super air-tight saran wrap. Tight and pinching, that was this feeling. I kept running, and pretty soon, I was 4 miles in, and I it had started to feel like normal. I was drinking constantly, and at mile 5 I really had to pee. I stopped and walked into Matthews beach, which was empty except for one homeless guy taking shelter in the men's bathrom from the pouring rain. I came in and he was slightly surprised to see me, but welcomed me with "It's much dryer in here, man!"
"Except for the pee all over the floor, yeah." I replied.
"You runnin' a long way?"
"I guess so. Long enough that I am completely soaked. And tired." I wasn't in much of a talking mood. But he was nice enough.
On my way out, he asked how far I was running.
"26 miles, every day, for 5 days." I said. I hate how pompous it sounds, and immediately wished I had made something up.
"HOLY SHIT, dude! Well, better you than me!" The guy said.

I walked to the drinking fountain and ate 2 Hammer gels. Espresso with caffeine, and a chocolate. I drank a good gulp of water and walked out of the park. I felt pretty good. I was getting dumped on with rain, but didn't even notice anymore.

I took my first few steps and the familiar pain, the "saran wrap" pain, returned, but only for 5 or 6 steps. And, as I kept running, I began to feel better and better. In fact, I started to laugh I felt so good. I was running and I swear to all, I felt normal.

I smiled the rest of the way home. I ran my last three miles at an 8 minute/mile pace, which maybe is foolish, but after this week? Who cares?? I was FLYING along Bothell way, in the rain, in the dark, and I had no pain or discomfort. Everything seemed as if I went on a 4 mile run, for the heck of it.

One more day.