The Monster Beat Me - Gate River Run 15k (March 5 2023)

It finally happened, you guys... After almost exactly ten years of races, I had to quit. And I'm pissed about it. 

If you remember, I just did Gasparilla last week (like SIX days ago). A 15k on Saturday. An 8k on Sunday. Six days ago, I ran/walked 14.2 miles, in addition to all the regular tourist and daily walking in Tampa... My plan was to take it easy today, run if I felt I had it in me, but just walk if that's all I could do. 

The calm before the storm... both literally and figuratively!

Hubby was still dealing with residual knee pain from Aquatica, so he stayed home and I ventured to Jax alone. I was up by 4:50 and out of the house by 5:45. Traffic was hell along Arlington Expressway, but I was able to park in the garage near Veteran's Arena. I successfully navigated myself to Packet Pickup and back to the car with no issues, then geared up and made my way to Wave 4, the dreaded Pink Wave of Walkers. There's still hundreds of people in this wave, but it feels like The Loser Wave to me. I stretched and warmed up, set up Garmin Live Track, and sent texts to Hubby in case he wanted to follow along online. And then I snuck into the back of Wave 3.... Come and get me, sucka!

Well, that sky looks ominous...

Early on, the decision was made to just walk. I was feeling good, but I didn't want to hurt myself. 

We're all doing good over here!

I made it over the first bridge with no issues, still feelin' good. 

My skirt is named "Waves." Today, it meant Waves of Pain.

It's a little humid and thick over here... rain's coming!

Around Mile 2, however, I started to become aware of my right shoulder. Like, it was feeling kind of crampy in the anterior portion of my shoulder. Not the top or side, but the chest, or front-facing side, of my shoulder. I tried to stretch it out and kept going. 

I'm pointing at the pain, guys... not the stain on my shirt, I swear!

Mile 3 comes along, and it's still crampy, but worse. I can feel this weird-ass cramp spreading into my right pectoral muscle, under my boob. I kept trying to stretch it out, but I don't even know good stretches to do, ya know? I checked with the First Aid Tent to see if they had any BioFreeze (or similar), but the didn't. Usually I have some little sample packs in my Nathan, but no luck today (I damn sure just went on Amazon and ordered some more, though!) 

Probably the last time a smile crossed my face this day

Oh, lawd, it's comin...

By Mile 4, it was raining, and I was very crampy, and it was getting harder to breathe, and I was just very unhappy. 

By Mile 5, I began to realistically think that I needed to quit. This crampy pain was going down my right arm, throughout my right chest, and down to my ribs, making it difficult to take a deep, full breath. And yeah, that's kind of important, especially if there's a huge fucking bridge in a few miles... you need to be able to breathe!

When I got to the police officer at Atlantic & Holmesdale, I'd made up my mind, and knew it was time to ask for help. I was practically in tears (and soaked to the bone) when I asked him where the SAG Wagon was. He told me that it had just passed him by, so I should look for it near Jolly Road (just a few hundred feet along the course). I continued along Holmesdale, keeping my eyes peeled for that sweet, sweet wagon, but there was nothing. When I got to Jolly, I asked that cop where the wagon was, and they had no idea what I was talking about. So I kept going. I'm so fucking soaked, it's pouring rain, it's cold, and I can't fucking breathe, the pain is so bad that I resorted to shoving my right arm against my ribs in some hope that it would lessen the pain. 

I passed the Mile 6 sign, holding my side and grimacing, and asked the next cop where the wagon was... they didn't know either (I'm losing faith in you JPD, seriously...) I crossed over the 10k mat, trying so hard not to cry, when FINALLY, I saw a wagon coming my way.

The Deluge at 10k

And it was full. 

Thankfully, another wagon came from the opposite direction (heading toward the start line, but it eventually turned around), and it was practically empty, so I got on that one, right in the front seat. So, here's a little tip for you... don't sit here if it's raining! I continuously got a face full of rain from the sky AND rain from the tires of the ATV pulling the wagon. It was just an hour of getting drenched, and being frozen. 

The Face of Defeat™

While on the wagon, I stopped my Garmin and ended my Live Track, then shoved my right arm against my ribs again. 

(The red part is where I forgot to stop my Garmin, whoops!)

We picked up three others on our way to the finish line, and tons of "Awww, look at the little quitters," pity smiles from runners we passed on the way. One lady sat up front with me and draped her leg across the seat to alleviate some calf pain, and for the rest of the ride, one of us would ask the other if they were doing okay. I love runners, we're so nice to each other, even in shitty situations. 

Hey, I still crossed it! Just, not under my own volition

The wagon stopped just short of the finish line so that we could get off and so that it could turn around. As we made our way toward the finish line, a Security man said that we weren't supposed to finish, but screw that, my dude. I just did six miles in the rain with half a fucked-up body... let me get my medal so I can do my final 3.1 miles next week!!! 

This would be much more triumphant if I'd done the entire thing and finished like a badass

I crossed the finish line with a time of 2:48:06. My 5k time was 59:12, and my 10k time was 2:02:23. I picked up my medal and bottle of water, and put them both in my pocket. I don't wear it if I didn't earn it. 

I am SO mad and in pain... that's an Arthur Fist if ever there was one... 

I walked over to the afterparty, slowly, just trying to fucking breathe and being unable to do so. I grabbed two cartons of chocolate milk and some more bottled water, then limped to the car. 

Absolutely crappy photo, but this is here to show where I parked (behind the people, by the wall)

I'm so thankful that I got this (otherwise shitty) corner parking spot. It was dark and protected over here, so I was able to peel off my shirt and put on one of the random hoodies I always have in the back seat in the winter months. Then I opened both driver's side doors for some semblance of privacy so I could peel off my skirt and put on a pair of sweatpants. I gave no fucks that my bra and panties were soaking wet from the rain, all I wanted at that moment was to warm my bones and take a deep breath. I popped a few Excedrin Migraine, because they were the only thing I could reach in my bag, hoping that it would beat back some of the pain (I'd say it helped about 25%, but that's better than nothing, I suppose). 

Traffic was backed up in the garage, so I had about 30 minutes to sit and get warm before cars started moving and I could leave. I set up the Garmin to take me home (avoiding highways), and it took me out via Normandy Boulevard. I figured this would work out well, since Normandy is a relatively busy street... I'd be able to choose from plenty of fast food and convenience store options. 

I guess other parts of Normandy are, but not the way I went home! Eventually, I found a Circle K so that I could pee and get a soda, and I picked up lunch at Hardee's in Starke (and it wasn't all that tasty, either, unfortunately). I got home around 2pm and Hubby was on the couch waiting for me. I told him what happened and we commiserated about how old and fragile we are (with my ribs and his jacked up knee!). 

For the rest of the day, I futzed around on the computer, trying to sit up straight and get a full breath OR expel a full breath, and I can't really do either one! This sucks!!!

ETA #1: If you're curious, I was able to finish the last 5k at my local parkrun on March 11th, with a time of 54:40, to finally earn my Gate River Run 15k medal. Ironically, as slow as that time is to some people, it's my new PR for parkrun! 

Ringing the Bell to celebrate a new PR at parkrun, too! (Why so awkward?)

ETA #2: On the following Thursday (March 16th), I went to my regular bi-weekly massage therapy appointment and I told her what had happened and what my pain felt like, where it was located, and after an hour of torture, even almost two weeks later, there was a lot of work she had to do. She said that I was completely locked up, and it wasn't something that could be taken care of while I walked. She also commended me for being smart enough to recognize that I needed to quit, or I really could have hurt myself if I'd kept going (seriously, the muscles connected to my ribs were all pulling in opposite directions!). So, score one point for Logic, and Ms. Negative Self-Talk can get outta here! I'm not a quitter, I'm a person who knows their limits. 

Let's hope I can remember that, if this ever happens again.