Thoughts per Mile

Just about a week ago, I had the pleasure of running Chicago's (hands down) finest race: The Hot Chocolate 15K.  Running, as we all know, is tough in general, but the real challenge of the day was figuring out what to think about for 9+ long miles.  For those among us who find the boredom of running to be the biggest hurdle, I'd like to bestow upon you my 9.2 miles of thoughts!

Mile 1: Pure excitement! 

Quite honestly, not much was running (pun intended) through my noggin at this point.  We were still in a tightly knit herd so it was somewhat necessary to focus on your surroundings so as to not bulldoze, or get bulldozed by a fellow runner.

Mile 2:  Nnst nst nst nst.  I downloaded too much techno. 

I thought BPM's were going to be the key to my success.  This was a poor assumption.  I wasn't in this race for speed.  I was in it to finish and having a jam packed playlist of rave music was a bad decision. Period.  There was nothing to sing along to.  No meaningful lyrics to provoke a thought. It was my biggest fail and it lasted for at least 40 minutes-which as you may or may not know- is four and a half songs.

Mile 3: Should I just stop? (Half kidding, half serious) 

This was the point where the 5K run/walkers and the 15K ambitious folk broke off.  I've always found mile 3 to be the trickiest.  The excitement from mile 1 and the endorphins from mile 2 have worn off and you're sort of faced with the realization that you have to do this for 6 more miles.  Sheer panic!  What if all the hot chocolate was gone by the time I finished?  This was a real (and kind of embarrassing) thought.  But, since quitters never win and winners never quit, I carried on.

Mile 4: The to-do list.

I'm aware that this isn't all that thrilling, but two weeks ago I full blown missed a lunch appointment because I had been neglecting my planner. (If I may paint you a picture: I received a phone call asking when I was going to get there, whilst sitting at my desk, under a pile of papers, wearing a sweat suit & glasses).  Ever since then, I've been creepy about memorizing my date book.  I should also mention- at this point we were running on a highway so I was just a titch distracted by the whizzing cars.  Not the best mental space to think about life's greater meaning. 

Mile 5: Who are you?  What do you do?  Why are you here?

This point of the course was one large loop so we had the pleasure of seeing people's faces as they passed us/we passed them-- a welcome change, as I had been staring at wedgies since 8am.  It gave me the opportunity to get to know my fellow Chicagoans: That girl looks like she's on mile 1.  How is her makeup still perfect? Was I supposed to put makeup on this morning!? That guy looks pretty athletic.  Why is he so slow?  Definitely an old knee injury from college…and so on and so forth.  Just making up stories in my mind.

Mile 6:  Do I need a new goal?

Full disclosure: I signed up for this run on a Sunday night after a handful of cocktails.  Considering the bad decisions most people make after a few too many, this was kind of a miracle.  Turns out, having a goal for the month of October was pretty fantastic.  Everyone is good at making excuses when it comes to the gym, but when you have the pressure of public humiliation on the line (slight exaggeration), you train.  Saturday mornings were dedicated to runs instead of bloody mary's and omelets.  Gym sessions lasted an hour+, as opposed to the usual 30 minutes, in-and-out.  Life was on track.  I couldn't help but worry what would happen after I crossed the finish line.  Is this how marathon runners are born?  Let's not get ahead of ourselves.  Mile 6 was devoted to thinking up possible new goals that would keep me on the straight and narrow.  (I didn't exactly come to any conclusions, but I have since signed up for a 10k Turkey Trot- baby steps to a greater goal).

Mile 7: American Horror Story: Asylum

Since Saturday night was spent at home- stretching my hammies and such- I burned through my DVR pretty quickly.  The On Demand Movie selection was sub par, and if we're still being honest, I had already watched "What to Expect When You're Expecting" the day before.  This is how I stumbled upon American Horror Story, Season 2.  Disturbing doesn't even begin to explain how completely messed up this show is.  You're left with a terrible lingering feeling of disgust and- as one may expect- horror.  I took this opportunity (in the friendly light of day) to digest everything I had been witness to the night before.

Mile 8:  Who picked chocolate?

Sure, it worked.  I was definitely lured in, but after 9 miles, who really wants a milk-based treat?  By mile 8 I definitely wasn't jonsin' for a Hershey bar.  I wanted a Gatorade.  Maybe a Luna Bar?  I did however start to think about what kind of meal I could get into later.  When you've burned 1000 calories before 10am, the world is your oyster (or cheeseburger).  Hence, the rest of mile 8 was spent thinking about what I would order for lunch that afternoon. 

Mile 9 (+.2):  Jesus take the wheel.

I'd be lying if I said the last mile wasn't purely devoted to moving my legs just a wee bit faster and asking a higher power to get me across that finish line.  Big thank you to the race organizers for having a) some girl with a megaphone yelling "almost done"- when in reality- we had another mile left, and b) throwing in what felt like a huge &^$%ing hill right at the end.  That was awesome.

Jokes aside- nothing felt better than finishing that race.  A short cool-down walk later and the hot chocolate was actually a welcome treat.  It should also be said that this race raised a boatload of money for the Ronald McDonald House Charities- and that right there is reason enough to sign up again next year.