One hour and forty three minutes...two blisters, a little blood, one public restroom and an unexpected desire for goo...

Who would think I would develop such an admiration for non cotton socks, the sight of orange spray paint, or the invention of a little packet of goo? Today was a big day of discoveries. I discovered I actually would survive an eight mile run. I discovered the meaning of a good pair of running socks…not just ones that look the part. And I discovered I apparently lose my legs past mile seven.

Here’s how it went:

Mile one: Man…today is a beautiful day. I can’t think of better weather…the sky is blue…my mind is clear. I feel all better after that ridiculous flu. I am going to do eight miles…what a huge big beautiful day.

Ahhh yeah…there they go. I’m used to it now…runners passing me (on both sides). Look at them go. Go right ahead…I am at peace with pace. I embrace the 12 and ½ minute mile. I am in it for the long haul. I am the picture of consistency. I am steady.  I am a force.

Mile two: Crap…I feel a bit of a side ache. Go AWAY! Remember to breath Kim...deep inhale and blow it out. Purse your lips. Do that coordinated step breathing thing...oh man...please please dont get bad enough that I have to start waving my arms in the air... NO aches. NO whammies. NO! Wow…I think I kicked it. I’m feeling a bit better. Oh look…the aid station. Beautiful little cups of water. How far is it? What’s that? Oh…2 ½ is all…oh…okay. Keep going to the orange spray painted 4? Okay. What wonderful lovely aid station people...it’s only another 1 ½ miles and I get to turn around. Not bad.

Mile three: You gotta be kidding…those must be the 13 milers…look how far ahead they are…why are they turning down THAT street? They can’t be the 8 milers. Well…just keep going. Just keep breathing. Just keep going...don't think about it...think about something else…I’m a rock star…that’s what people tell me. I rock. I do rock. Lets rock. I am now rocking. I’m on a stage. I’m playing guitar…I’m singing…I’m…oh, forget it…I’m running and it hurts. And it stinks. And I can’t believe I am not at mile four yet. Oh...here she comes…that woman that always catches me half way through ever time. OH…that means we are almost half way through…right???  Awesome!  She's awesome.  I LOVE her.

Mile four:  THERE IT IS! That beautiful bright orange spray painted number 4. I LOVE the number 4. And I now turn around. YES! Oh wait…4 more miles...craaaaap. Get out of your head. You just ran four…you can do four more. You did six a few weeks ago. You’re on the downhill now. And we’re smiling…we’re running....ah...we're looking for a bathroom.

Mile five: Bathroom. Bathroom…gotta pee. GOT TO PEE. GEEZZZZZzzz…I went about a billion times before the run. I thought I did a good job balancing my need to hydrate with my need to NOT go to the bathroom on this ridiculously long run. Bathroom. Bathroom. Restaurant? No…too much trouble.

Mile six: There they are again…those wonderful people with the aid station. What’s that? No…no thanks…no more water…I’ve got to go…you know...go.  Oh, right…the bathroom at the park. Great! Thanks…there it is….run to the bathroom. The very public…very well used…by apparently A LOT of little people…park bathroom. Ewww. Wipe. Wipe. And we’re bouncing as we’re cleaning….Ah hell…nevermind…just go!

Mile seven: There she went…the speed walker. She has run and walked this like a champ. She has come out of nowhere and seems just as fast as me and I’ve run the whole thing. She’s got some years on me but I can tell just by looking at her she has more mental stamina. She’s something. She’s swing her arms. She’s moving fast. She gained some ground because of my miniscule bladder. But…I can proudly say…I overtook her leaving the park. She apparently has no idea she is my competition. She seems not to notice. Well played my speed walking foe.

Mile eight: Where did they go? They were here a minute ago. Somehow...my legs have gone missing. I don’t know where they went…but I do know they disappeared and I now seem to just fall forward only to be jolted back into place by the feet that catch me. Oh, my feet. Don’t fail me now…I see the high school. MUST keep going…this must be what the goo is for...more umph.  Oh, that’s nice…look at all the people in cars letting me go. I can tell by the look in their eyes they recognize I’m at the threshold of hell and not to be messed with. They kindly let me go even though they clearly will need to wait a longer time than anticipated as I carefully cross the street with the speed walker in tow. She will not prevail. I get passed by a herd of advanced runners that started atleast a half an hour after me and listen to them chat and laugh with ease. Could they atleast make it seem like a bit of a bother? Really. At the bridge now…almost there. On my way through downtown, I pass the smell of breakfast as people sit in the sun and enjoy the start of their day. Huff…cough…sigh…breathing...cursing…panting…I pass them. I can see it now. The finish. Speed walker is across the street and behind me by a block or two. I smoked her. I kick ass. I am a rock star…well, maybe a soft rocker Joni Mitchell type. 

I ran eight.