You guys, buckle up for this one... I have a sad tale of woe to tell you.
On Saturday, I slept in until about 9, then set about packing and relaxing. We grabbed lunch at McDonalds, around 11:30 and got to Celebration around 3. I walked over to Packet Pickup and got my bib, shirt, and swag, then we drove over to our hotel. We were staying at Melia Orlando again, via VRBO this time. Does it make a difference? Besides price, no, it made no difference. And this may be a two strikes and you're out scenario.
When we got there the lobby was relatively empty, except for one irate woman who was pissed off about something. As I waited and waited, I overheard that their Key Card System was down. They couldn't issue keys, so employees were walking guests to their rooms individually, and telling them that staff will bring them their keys later. Oh boy. It took about 20 minutes for me to check in, and then another 20 for someone to realize that I was still waiting for my escort to our room. Even though our room was right around the corner from the lobby, the staff instructed me to go park our car first. Brainiacs that we are, we didn't think to bring our stupid luggage with us! And since we needed a key to get into the building and again at our door, we couldn't unload the car, because we wouldn't be able to get back in! Nor could I even go get ice, because that room needed a key as well. So we just sat around staring each other... got very boring. We got one phone call to check if we got into our room, and when I asked when keys would be ready, the clerk kind of just mumbled something and hung up! We gave up at 5:30 and decided to go to dinner. We checked with the front desk about keys, and thankfully, they were ready! So we moved our luggage up to the room, then came back down. As we drove by it, Hubby asked what Maple Street Biscuit Company was, and I told him it was an amazing restaurant full of love and biscuits. I pulled up the menu for him and he said we should go there... Unfortunately, they're more of a brunch place, and they'd closed at 3pm. Maybe we'll do this on Monday.
We popped over to tried-and-true Cracker Barrel, but not the one we typically go to - Garmin pointed us to one that was closer to the hotel instead. It wasn't super busy, but our service was still pretty slow. I got my typical pancakes with bacon and scrambled eggs, and hubby ordered chicken fingers. I'd like to point out, that when our waitress came by, she told us all about a special they were having with pork chops. We kind of made an "ooh, that sounds good," kind of noncommittal noise, but I gotta say... his chicken fingers did NOT taste like chicken, nor did they look like chicken. They were breaded in panko instead of flour breading, and they were very... firm? Bless his heart, he was too nice of a guy to return them, so he just ate his fries and some of my pancakes. After this very mediocre dinner, we ended up getting in a discussion with one of the employees as we stood in the Bottled Beverage section of the gift area. We ended up purchasing two bottles of root beer to try later.
We stopped at Publix for some post-run supplies: Chocolate milk, Gatorade, and cupcakes. Yeah, those are supplies! Back at the hotel I squeezed my fat ass into their tiny bathtub for a soak, then laid down on their hard-as-a-rock bed and tried to get my frazzled brain to shut up long enough to sleep.
Up way too early on Sunday morning, I felt nauseated, but not able to poo (typical before races, honestly). I drank my OJ, woke Hubby up, and we were out the door, late as usual, around 6:30 (yes, for a 7am race). We parked at Celebration School and hoofed it over to the start line. My ear, which had stuffed up last night, was still stuffed up. I kissed Hubby goodbye, set up my LiveTrack, and chugged a bottle of water as I stuffed my pockets with all of my random run supplies (seriously, we got there really late!) I met Hubby past the start line, and we walked together to the corner, where he then headed over to meet me at Mile 2.
Now, I need to be honest here... 2023, as much as it sucked, was simply the excuse I used - repeatedly - to ignore my training. Every time shit went south, I'd dramatically throw up my hands (mentally) and think, well, fuck, I can't go to the gym now! and I'd let it derail me for a week or so. There were sometimes weeks where I didn't do ANYTHING. No gym, no stretching, no parkrun, nothing. And so you can imagine how much I'm going to suck today... The longest I've even walked has been a 5k, and that was months ago... My ONLY goal was to finish, but I soon realized I was pacing these three older ladies, so I decided to follow them and make sure they were always within my line of sight (or right behind me). I'm happy to report that these three ladies all finished with a respectable time of 4:59! The lady in purple is over 80! Good for her!!!
I was feeling okay as I made it to Mile 1, and I began to think that I was going to be fine... The first mile is always a warm up for me anyway, right? I met Hubby at the corner, finished my bottle of water as we walked, then left him at the entrance to the hotel. I was still feeling good as I heard peals of screams coming from the area of the hospital, around Mile 3. There was a group of volunteers there, and one of them seemed to think that blood-curdling screams of encouragement at 7:30 in the morning was a good idea. I felt so bad for the people IN the hospital who had to listen to this for hours. I was feeling okay at this point, and even made a little video about how I was going to have Hubby call me at Mile 9 (the Motherfucker Mile™) to cheer me on, or how I was going to call him at Mile 12 and brag about finishing.
I ate a Quaker Granola Bar as I walked, to make up for no breakfast, and noticed that there were two runners in front of me; one looked to be a coach of some sort, who was encouraging a second guy, who seemed to be special in some way. The special guy was having a hard time and so the coach would encourage him to run a little, then walk a little I'm happy to say that they finished with a time of 4:24.
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| Something about a Quaker Chewy Granola Bar always works for me... |
Around Mile 4, once we left the hospital, I noticed that my left foot was starting to hurt. I'd been dealing with Plantar Fasciitis over the past few months, so this wasn't a big surprise. It wasn't a lot of pain, so I kept going. By Mile 5, though, I started to realize there was no way I could keep going. My entire foot was in pain, to the point where I just knew that I was walking weirdly to accommodate the pain. I stopped near McDonald's to stretch my calves, which felt good, but then my legs began to immediately hurt again when I began walking again. I think about this point I started doing little video check ins on my phone. Of all the issues I thought I'd have to overcome, I didn't think it was PF that was going to be my biggest problem!
Oh but wait...
It's raining now.
Well, at least it's warm rain (lookin' at you, 2019 Celebration)
At one point, a lady I'd been passing, and being passed by, passed me again; she said that she was hitting every single potty stop (no idea why) and that she didn't think she'd be able to finish (she didn't, unfortunately). Interestingly, when I look at that photo up there with the three older ladies, Potty Patty is right there!
So, at about Mile 5.5, I knew for sure that I had to stop, and decided that I could tough it out until Mile 6, because that's where the high school is, and there'd be a lot of people there who could probably assist me. I was getting emotional at this point, because I didn't want to quit, I was frustrated, and I hurt really bad. I passed a runner wearing a knee brace who said she was also in a lot of pain; I told her I was quitting and she said that she was going to try to finish (she did! Yay for her!)
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| 1451 finished, good for her! Oh look, there's me over there... |
I texted Hubby that I was quitting, to allow him time to walk back over to the Finish Line (ugh, why did I do that? He could have stayed there, and I could have driven myself home... Run Brain at its best), and asked one of the volunteers how to sag, what I needed to do, and she didn't know. She called her coordinator, who told me that there was no actual Sag Wagon and that anyone who quit had to get a ride to the finish line. Her golf cart had a flat tire, and suggested that I get a ride from the EMTs over by the boardwalk (whom I'd passed 10 minutes earlier). I told her that was fine, I wasn't in BIG PAIN type pain, so I started walking (and crying), but then she caught up with me and told me that she found a volunteer (an amazing kid, Skylar, from the local church) who was going to give me a ride in his car. So I walked over to Skylar, having another pity-cry about how much of a loser I was.
EDIT _085718 AND _090023 INTO ONE VIDEO (WLL NEED TO UPLOD TO YT TO BE ABLE TO INSERT INTO BLOGGER)
I got out of the car right before the finish line so he didn't have to deal with traffic, and started walking toward the medal area. My hope was that I could tell them what happened, explain that I wanted to finish the other 7 miles at home (when my foot had healed) and get a medal.
I got out of the car right before the finish line so he didn't have to deal with traffic, and started walking toward the medal area. My hope was that I could tell them what happened, explain that I wanted to finish the other 7 miles at home (when my foot had healed) and get a medal.
Instead, I did something I wasn't all that proud of. I slipped on to the sidewalk between the finish line and the businesses, and walked all the way up to where Bag Check was (i.e. where finish line people couldn't see me), and I slipped on to the course with everyone else wh
o was finishing. Yeah, the healthy, pain-free, fast, deserving-to-get-their-medals people. I stayed over to the side as I attempted to at least jog, all the while everyone cheering me on looked distorted. They were cheering for everyone else, but they were all pointing and laughing at me.
o was finishing. Yeah, the healthy, pain-free, fast, deserving-to-get-their-medals people. I stayed over to the side as I attempted to at least jog, all the while everyone cheering me on looked distorted. They were cheering for everyone else, but they were all pointing and laughing at me.
I 'ran it in', and got my medal like I actually finished this, and got a food card. I plopped myself at a table in a little alcove near the DJ truck and waited for hubby to come get me. I cried more, trying not to look like a complete idiot.
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| At least the rain stopped... |
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| Only got chowder this year; it's all I deserve |
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| The face of an Unhappy Quitter |
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| Feet, Y U Do Dis? |
Again... why did I not just limp my way over to the car, instead of making Hubby walk almost 2 miles to come and get me?!? Bu as soon as I saw him, I was so glad he was there... I just freakin' lost it all over him. He saw it coming before I even knew it was coming. He curled me in his arms and just let me go. Once I got myself back together, we walked over and got some chowder, which I ate on the way back to the car. Back at the hotel, I soaked myself in a hot bubble bath, taking stock of where my pain was. It was my feet, my shins, and even the tops of my feet, along the metatarsals.
I crawled back in bed after and snuggled him for a while, which - of course - let to naughty snuggling. Now, this is TMI, but after my first orgasm, I got in my own head and I just absolutely shut down... I felt like a loser, a quitter, I was fat, I was lazy, I took the easy way out... all of these horrid negative thoughts swirling around my brain, and I had to practically throw his hands off of me as I curled back into him and just freaking SOBBED all over him. It honestly felt like a bit of a mental breakdown... I've never felt this completely wrong before.
Yes, I know that quitting was the smart thing to do.
Yes, I know that I could have hurt myself if I'd kept goin.
Yes, I know that I was smart for listening to my body instead of ignoring it.
But it still sure feels like I just gave up.
Me and my mental breakdown took a nap for a few hours then did an early dinner at Sickie's Garage. I had the Wild Hog burger, Rusty Bucket fries and some nacho cheese for dipping. Hubby got chicken fingers, fries, and cheese. We kicked around the idea of ice cream, but we were way too full, so after a side quest to get earwax removal supplies at CVS, we went back to the hotel. I took another bath to baby my muscles and feet (which were feeling a smidge better), then dealt with the ear wax blockage, then crawled into bed for more snuggling and well-needed sleep.
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| Much better chicken than Cracker Barrel! |
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| Terrible photo of a delicious burger |
The next morning, he woke me up with more naughty-snuggling until I couldn't stand it anymore; he said that I needed it more than he did. (In my head, I want to call it a Pity Fuck, but I know that's not what it was... it truly is his way of taking care of me and making me feel better and getting me out of my own head.).
Eventually, though, we had to put on clothes and vacate the room. We hit up Maple Street Biscuit Company for brunch. We each got the Maple Sticky Chicken, and I got a side of Smashbrowns to try. As we were sitting and waiting for our order, the manager brought over an iced cinnamon biscuit for us to try (woo hoo, free food!) Oh man, if you haven't had one of those, what are you waiting for? It was heavenly. But even more heavenly was the Sticky Chicken! Hubby's eyes about fell out of his head when he saw it - he wasn't expecting such a big sandwich. He tried a bite and fell in love (and he's not even a huge biscuit kinda guy). He said that the cinnamon biscuit was dangerous, it was so tasty. If you can get one fresh while you're at the store, do it... it's amazing. The Smashbrowns however, were disappointing. I don't know what I was expecting, but these weren't it.
He was only able to eat about 2/3 of his while I ate about half of mine. I got a box, as well as two additional biscuits to go for eating at home tonight. We hit up Wawa for gas and soda, made our way up to Wildwood for a Russell Stover pitstop, and finally, that ice cream we kept thinking about. Hubby got some sort of peanut butter scoop; I got a single scoop sugar cone of Cookie Dough, which was roughly the size of my head! There was no way I could drive and eat this monstrosity, so we relaxed in the car instead, at least until it was a bit more manageable.
Once it was safe to drive, we pointed the Garmin to a place called Grandpa Joe's Candy Shop in Ocala. We couldn't find it in the Garmin, but I knew it was downtown, so we just kind of drove around looking for it... We kept overlooking it, though it was in plain sight, right next to Harry's. Inside, it wasn't as "look at this amazing wall of candy" like I was expecting, but more of a "look at all of these packages of candy and toys and socks and stuff." The company brags about their $5 Candy Buffet, but (at least at this location) there were only about 30 options, and most of it was stuff you could find anywhere, so we skipped that.
However, they also have a massive wall of bottled sodas! Probably 200 different flavors and brands, different types of sodas. Plus a cooler with some of the more popular ones pre-chilled so you can drink them immediately. We picked up a dozen to try next week (they were Buy 5, Get 1 Free, too!). You can find that video on YouTube, or watch it below.
We also picked up some candy and two Chinese varieties of Doritos to try. Those bags were $6 each, so they better be good!
Back on the road, we headed home, and my ass was in bed with snacks by 6pm. I just wanted to wallow and pity myself. I typed up this post, watched some of Bosch: Legacy, and then eventually fell asleep.
On Tuesday, I emailed the Run Director and told them what I'd done (cutting the course, getting a medal anyway) because I didn't want to get credit for a 2:45 finish when I damn sure didn't do the work - I didn't want to take that slot away from someone who'd earned it. Luckily, the Results Processor had already removed me, due to lack of splits, and I wasn't in the final results at all. The Run Director replied back to me that he was sorry I'd had a rough day, there were no issues, and hoped that I'd be back in 2025. Also at this point, I realized... I lost my Streak. I'd run this every single year since its inception, in 2014. Even during Covid, I ran the virtual. I was so proud to be this slow, fat, old broad, who could say proudly, I've run this every single year since it began! And now that's gone.
I looked over the rest of the results, because I'm a dork like that. There were 1,898 registered participants for the Half-Marathon, and 1,701 finishers. This means that there were 196 other people besides me who also DNF. It wasn't just me. Hell, the last Half-Marathon finisher came in at 6:00 hours, so even if I'd finished, in my hobbled state, I still wouldn't have been last, either. It didn't really make me feel any better, but it was nice to see the hard numbers anyway.
So... now what? I have Gasparilla in less than a month, and Gate River Run just days after that. I can't just not go (okay, yeah, I know I CAN just not go, but then I would be wasting hundreds of dollars)... At this point, I am going to talk to my Massage Lady and see what she suggests for dealing with this. I'm going to 'cram' for Gasparilla by doing as much cardio as possible over the next 4 weeks, using the Elliptical to get a good calf stretch while not impacting my foot much more. And finally, I'll plan to KT Tape the hell out of my feet and wear calf sleeves while at Gasparilla. I guess we'll see what happens next month...
