there is no "only" about running 16 miles

Because I love running long distances (or maybe because I'm a masochist), I tagged along with my Running Spot buddies on their 19-mile trek yesterday. I'm only doing half marathons this Fall, so I decided there was no need to run the full 19 miles. Sixteen would do just fine.

Our run started at the Loveland Spot, running north out and back on the bike trail for 4 miles then south out and back for 5.5 (4 for me). The temperature was in the 60's or 70's, but the humidity/dew point was out of control! By the time we hit the mile 4 water stop (I bring my own, since I'm a crasher), I did not have a dry spot on my shirt. Sexy, sexy. I was running with Kent and a few girls I've only met a few times, and we were all complaining because:

- The trail is beyond monotonous. At one point we actually went rogue and ran on the road, which goes right next to the trail, for a half mile. We were begging for a change of scenery, getting excited at things like fallen logs and the occasional grassy field. Sad.

- The trail is not only monotonous but flat. We normally bitch about the hills in O'bryonville but I think the flat trail is worse, because you're using the same muscles over and over with no break.

No one's Garmins were working correctly because we were in the woods, so we didn't really know how fast we were going. I also didn't get a clear read on when I needed to turn around. I left everyone some point during mile 12 and started hauling @ss because I just wanted to FINISH. The elites were passing me (they had already run the 5.5 miles and were circling back) and I felt stupid for being such a wuss, since I was doing only 16 miles. I mentioned this to one of them and he replied "there is no 'only' about running 16 miles." True story.

The end of the run was pretty miserable and by the time I hit the Spot, I could tell I was dehydrated - everything was cramping up. Tisha and I decided the best thing to do would be lie down in the parking lot, using railroad ties as pillows. Classy, we are. We were only motivated to get up by the fact that Kent was having everyone back to his house for breakfast. Score!

Our group (quite a lot of us actually) crashed Coach K's house, completely taking over the kitchen and deck. His very patient family was surrounded by gamey runners guzzling mimosas and shoveling in quiche as if we might never eat or drink again. Mmm...I heart quiche. Most of us stayed to hang around outside afterwards chatting and soaking up the sun. :-) Good times!

Once I got home, I plotted out my route on USATF to try and gauge my pace. I looked at the map and oops! I ran almost 17 miles on accident - 16.69 give or take. This puts my pace right around a 9:09. My body feels like it's been hit by a bus, I have more blisters than I can count, and two of my little toenails are black (again, sexy, sexy). As my dad would say, it might be time to take me out back and shoot me.