Me: Running 11 miles

11 miles.

Who in their right mind wakes up early on a Saturday morning and says: "ooh, I think I'll go run 11 miles today."
Apparently I did. Last week.
Fortunately we made a quick weekend trip to visit my family so Dad was able to watch Bubs while Mr. Man and I ran together.
Note to self: Husband runs much faster than wife. 

The first 5.5 miles were lovely. The clouds were thick, street lights illuminated the sidewalk, bugs were still chirping, and traffic was minimal. We jogged slowly through the sleeping businesses, down the hill, around the bend, and under the bridge into a quiet, forested trail winding along a golf course.  It wasn't long before dawn broke and we saw a beautiful sunrise. We chatted about life, running, goals, funny stories, and the lack of hills ahead.

Around mile 4.5 we entered a clearing that reminded me of fall: skinny tree trunks, crunchy leaves, and grey skies. We picked up the pace every so slightly and continued on. When we reached our turning point, we stopped to  re-hydrate and check our time. Suddenly our lovely, beautiful, jog took a disappointing turn: I was relying on him to set the pace (since he was faster), and he was relying on me to set the pace, so we ended up running an 11:30 mile for the first half. In our minds this was unacceptable.

The next 3 miles were tough. We wanted to make up time. He pushed me. I pushed myself. Our 11:30 pace quickly shifted to a sub 9:00 minute mile pace and I started to get a little tired. Around mile 7 the horrible, awful, nobody-ever-tells-you-about, digestive system kicked in. Since we were running along the lovely golf course, there was a potty...nowhere. Around mile 9 I thought I was going to puke, pass out, and die. Mile 10 I felt like I couldn't possibly take another step, but with the promise of a "nice downhill just around the corner" I pressed forward. Well, that downhill was actually an uphill. Then a flat. Then a very short and subtle decline before another small uphill. Right when I knew I couldn't take a single step more, we reached 11 miles. 11.03 to be exact.

In the end, there were some memorable moments. I realized, way deep down, that running really is about 90% mental and 10% physical. If you say and think "I can't", guess what? You can't. But if you remind yourself how strong you are and tell yourself that you can do it, guess what? You can.

Between miles 9-11, Mr. Man had to keep reminding me how great I was doing. He kept throwing back things like: "You can do this!" "Keep it up!" "Come on, you got this!" "Don't give up! Don't quit! You're a fighter, you don't give up!", and my personal favorite mantra: "You're stronger than you think!"

Most of the time it was motivational. A few times it was frustrating because I felt like I couldn't go any faster or push any harder. But I finished. I also did not die. Or puke. Or pass out.

This Saturday I had the same crazy thought: "Ooh, I think I'll wake up early and go run 11 miles today." This time I joined up with a group of girl friends and ran with them. My usually training partner was out of town, so I ran with a couple other girls, who kept reminding me "If you want to run faster ahead, you can. It's okay." Mostly because I've been training at a slightly faster pace. However, I decided I needed to build some confidence in myself and have positive thoughts toward a long run, so I wanted to go slower, take breaks, and enjoy the run more. We did just that. We took plenty of walking breaks, a couple bathroom breaks, and really just enjoyed running. I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation and the company. I also enjoyed feeling much better about myself, my capabilities, and my strength...since I finished well and didn't feel completely spent at the end. (unlike my last 11 mile run)

So, moral of the story? Running long distance is hard. Really, really, really, hard. But I think like anything else, it takes time to build up the strength and endurance, then eventually it becomes easier and easier. I am really excited about the race coming up. Only 2 more long, Saturday, training runs before culminating event.

My mantra for the race? (and every other hard run I run): You're stronger than you think. 

Because, by golly, it is so gosh, darn true. For every single aspect of life.