Where's my F*cking SUN? - Celebration Half-Marathon Race Report

Calm down, Marlin!

Oh my... 

this was... 

well, this was a race that TESTED my will, folks. 

And I'm proud as fuck to say that I passed. Maybe not with flying colors. This was definitely not a "Kick Ass and Take Names" situation. I didn't run out of bubble gum. I guilted and prodded myself to completion.

Let me back up and start from the beginning. 

We drove down Saturday, after Hubby got off of work. We got soda and gas at Circle K (dammit, this CK doesn't have the good ice...). Hubby had a hankering for chicken nuggets, so we made the grave mistake to go to Burger King... yeah, let's not do that again. We both had upset stomachs for hours!

Anyway, while driving down to Celebration, we passed the solar farm where we always make the joke "Where's my fucking SUN?!"

The black area in the middle is the solar farm, I think

To explain this...

A few years ago, some idiot retired science teacher (huh?) said she thought that solar panels were basically going to steal the sunlight...

Um... a Teacher?

Someone on Facebook posted a story about it, using a recycled meme... and a running joke was born. 

Now, this was extra funny because by the time we headed south, the temperature was already dropping into the lower 50s. Little did I know how many times this would go through my head during the race!

Once in Celebration, we picked up my swag and headed back to the car (I really don't even do the Expo anymore, unless I need some Honey Stingers). This year they had shirts that weren't from Raw Threads (and shocker... they didn't fit me), as well as a visor, a bottle opener, and a soft-sided cooler. 

This is NOT a Raw Threads shirt, so it doesn't fit

I chose the visor since I already have a hat from Celebration

We skipped going to Disney, instead we just picked up dinner from Wawa and Chick-fil-A and hunkered down in the hotel room for the night.

You guys...

I really didn't think the race could get worse than having to deal with it being cold, but when I woke up... it was raining. Like, RAINING raining. Not misting. Not sprinkling. RAINING. It was my least favorite weather combination ever... Cold + Wet. Oh, yeah... this is gonna suck.

I drank some juice while I got ready for this race, before we headed over to Celebration School. We always park here, because it's easy to find (both before and after the race), and most people aren't thinking about it, because they're looking for parking elsewhere. It's quiet, and we don't have to deal with people parking next to us either.

We sat in the car as long as possible, while I ate my Clif Gel, and then I put on every layer I could find. I think I had a tank top, base layer, long sleeve tee, quarter-zip top, and my Gasparilla jacket (I couldn't find my green raincoat). On the bottom, I wore my compression Zensahs under my long tights, which were under my Sparkle skirt. I also had gloves, Hot Hands, and my hat.

It wasn't enough.

We headed to the start line, with only a few minutes to spare (we stayed too long in the warm, dry car) and I got in line with everyone else.

He's already covered in raindrops

I was NOT looking forward to this. All I could hope for was that the rain would end and it would be at least sunny and cold.

Probably the only smile you'll see on my face for the rest of the race

I apologize for the quality of the photos - my white balance was way off, so everything looks very blue!

From here on out, this race was a total mental game. It was still raining at Mile 1. I was okay... it wasn't horribly cold, but I wasn't happy about the situation. 

Mile 1 at the Country Club

By Mile 2, I was done... I wanted to quit. I wanted to quit so hard. But I knew that hubby was going to be waiting for me by the turn, and I was hoping that his cheering me on would give me a kick in the ass.

You can see the rain in this photo

It didn't. I love him, and I love seeing him, but I got no kick. If anything, it made me want to quit more... But I kept moving. I made it to Mile 3, and I thought again about quitting. There's no shame in quitting I told myself... It's cold. It's wet. Just give up. I kept moving, but the Blerch was persistent. It got louder with every step.

I met hubby again when I got back to the main road, and we walked together to where he goes to Publix. I wanted to cry. I wanted to go with him. I wanted a 2-hour long hug. I wanted to quit.

I kept going, y'all. I told myself that I didn't want to quit at Mile 4... it was still too close to where he was, and if I quit, he'd come back to where I was and it would feel like a Walk of Shame.

So I kept going to Mile 4.

I missed Mile 3

By this point, I discovered that when Hot Hands get wet, they don't really work. If I'd known that, I would have tucked them into small Ziploc bags. Lesson for next time I guess...

After passing Mile 4, I told myself that there's no shame in quitting at Mile 5. I had to walk through the back of Celebration Hospital, first. It started raining harder when I got there, and there was like misty rain coming off the retention ponds. All I could do was tuck my head down, and keep moving.

Beautiful aerial from @BioReconstruct on Twitter

I came out the other side, and, y'all, it was really a "which fork in the road do I take?" If I turn right, I stay on the course; if I go straight, I'd walk off the course to the police and admit that I'm a quitter and need to be transported to the finish line...

I stayed on the course.

Mile 5 - where are the people?

I instantly regretted it. I mean, come ON! Look at these photos. It's raining. It's dreary. There's no one anywhere near me. At this point, it's begun raining SO HARD that the sound of the rain hitting the hood of my raincoat was driving me almost literally insane.

I made a deal with myself to make it to the boardwalk past Mile 7, then if I wanted to quit, I could quit - that is where the DJ was, so he could call a Sag Wagon if I needed it.

10k Split Mat - smartly so, the timer guy was sitting INSIDE his truck

Around Mile 7, I caught up with a group in front of me... and by caught up, I mean, I can see them.

Look, PEOPLE! There's people there!!!

I got to the DJ, and the hardass in me refused to quit. Keep going, she said. Do the boardwalk and see how you feel.

So. Much. Rain.

Already being passed by marathon runners

So I did the boardwalk. I passed Mile 8, which meant I was over halfway done. I'm moving slow as hell, but I'm still going, dammit.

Did. Not. Run! The boardwalk was so wet!

Okay... how fast do I need to move to make it NOT SO FUCKING COLD???

I came out of the woods, and again had a choice to make... should I quit, or should I go right, and stay on the course? I stayed on the course. At this point, I couldn't let The Motherfucker Mile™ beat me! I've come over eight miles in the wind and the cold and the rain... if I quit now, I'd hate myself for a good while.

So I kept going. I beat The Motherfucker Mile™. I won.

Ironically, I have no photo of the Mile 9 flag...

But did I quit? Hell no! At this point, I reasoned with myself that I'd already done ten fucking miles in this weather. Quitting now would be a pussy, bullshit move. So I trudged on, through Miles 10 and 11. Through the area I always think is Mile 12 but is not.

And then, finally, I got to Mile 12. That glorious mile where I know everything will be okay, because I'm almost done. Where I know that soon, I'll be rounding the lake, and I'll see the spires of the theater, where I'll hear the roar of the crowd, and I'll be almost done.

Mile 12 was a glorious mile.

It was NOT this beautiful and sunny during my race

I came around that corner soaking wet, bundled up against the wind and rain (both of which had infiltrated my jacket hours earlier), with freezing hands, snotsicles, and a fucking SMILE on my face. I did it, son of a bitch, I really DID IT.

I'm soaking wet. I'm freezing my lady-balls off. I can't feel my fingers. I'm FINISHING!

It said give up a LOT today.

Other years, I try to run up Market Street to the finish, but there was no running for me this time. I was frozen from head to toe and it was all I could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I think the best I could muster was a longer stride.

Hey look, it's a potato in a hoodie!

My official time was 4:25:57 - absolutely my slowest to date (but could you blame me?!?) That gave me a 20:19 pace. I finished 1322nd out of 1339 (1826 registered, but 487 didn't even start the race). I was LAST in my age group! Of the 314 marathon finishers (of which 427 registered), 127 of them finished before me. My 10k split was 1:58:33 and my 15k split was 3:00:28.

After looking at my finisher photos, my stance looked awfully familiar... oh, yeah! I look like Strollin' Leo! HA!

I'm so proud of this stupid photoshop! It took me forever, lol!

We didn't stick around at all for the after party, not even to pick up a can of soda or juice. I didn't even want a finish line photo (though, as Hubby predicted, I do regret that decision now...) I practically threw my medal to Hubby and said take me back to the car! He walked as fast as I could handle, and I was thawing out after just a few minutes.

We headed back to the hotel, where the awesome staff at Red Lion granted us a late check-out, so I could warm up with a hot bath.

So... I'm thawing out in the tub, and my legs start to itch... like... really itch. I'd never felt this sensation before! I figured it had something to do with being cold, so I tried to ignore it and just stewed in that gloriously hot water for a while until I just couldn't stand it anymore and I had to get out.

Then I saw my legs... what the hell?

From my ankles down, and then my knees up (to my crotchular area) were bright red, but my lower legs were not. I tried to capture it in a photo, but this doesn't do it justice really... I looked like a lobster.

The compressing sleeves gave me an extra level of protection, I suppose

ETA: After talking to some folks back home (who are Northern People), the consensus was that it was frostbite or something similar... wow.

Anyway, once my legs stopped glowing in the dark, I got dressed and we packed up and checked out of the hotel. We headed to Cracker Barrel for lunch, and man, it just started POURING rain outside. Yay, more rain...On our way there, I asked Hubby where my medal was (I like taking photos of it with my food.). He had no idea! He checked all of his pockets, and couldn't find it. It wasn't in any of my pockets, nor in my purse or in the car anywhere. When we got to CB, he practically tore the trunk apart - all while standing in the pouring rain in the 40º weather - looking for my medal. I told him to stop, that we'd look later, and finally I got him to quit and come inside where it was warmer.

Interesting fact I learned from this trip to Cracker Barrel - they don't prepare chicken gravy on a daily basis (at least this one doesn't). Since it was Sunday, I could order the Sunday Chicken special (two boneless fried chicken breasts with sides and fixins). As I was eating it, my body said GRAVY! MUST HAVE GRAVY!! so I asked the waitress for a bit of chicken gravy. She came back and said that they only have it on Saturdays, when they have chicken & dumplings... huh. Now I really want some fried chicken with chicken gravy... dammit. 

Once we finished our meal, we stopped by Wawa for travel sodas and some snacks and then headed home. I was still frozen to the core, and exhausted. I didn't even want to go to Disney. The weather was way too terrible for that. Once home, I just crawled into a hot shower and then into bed. This race kicked my ass, the weather didn't help, and I was miserable.

BUT. I. FINISHED.

So, how cold was it really? I pulled up Weather Underground, and this is what they report for Sunday: 

The warmest it got, the entire race, was 50º, at 10:30am. And the wind, my lord... how did I finish this race?

All in all, as of Monday at noon, my parts that normally hurt, don’t hurt very much! Feet are okay (except for blisters), my side butt is okay, my thighs, shins and calves are okay. My ANKLES are okay… But, I have this weird pain in my ass (besides my husband)... it runs from the top of my ass (where dimples would be, if I had any), to the middle of my butt cheek... I have no idea what it is, but trying to roll over while sleeping list night was hell! I'll have to ask my Massage Lady what the problem is...


LOL, you guys... I just went through my Garmin account, and I was editing some of the titles of my races (I like to note which number a race was, like my 3rd 10k or whatever)... and this race was my 13th half-marathon... if I were a superstitious person, I'd say that it would explain a LOT!