Feb 09 2009
If I were a dwarf…
…my name might be Gimpy.
A day after completing this ridiculous 20-mile run, I’m still a bit stiff and sore. I’ve got some tightness in my left hip flexor, and my left ankle isn’t feeling too grand either. Interestingly, both knees are fine, as is the right ankle, which earlier had been giving me trouble.
So, 20 miles. We’re having this heat wave up here: 55 degrees on Saturday, 56 today, 63 tomorrow! But yesterday there was a bit of a break in the warmth–it was about 35 degrees with a stiff south wind. I set out at approximately 2:00 p.m., headed east to the lake, turned north for about three miles, then went back south. I did this because there’s only one water fountain along the lakefront path that stays on through the winter, and I wanted to hit it about midway through the run to refill my water bottles. Going south, I reached said fountain at about the eighth mile, and continued south to the Museum Campus, where I turned around and went home. This divided up the run into four somewhat equal phases. Map of the run here.
Phase One: Home to Foster Avenue
Mild stiffness in the left ankle to begin the run. A slight fear that I’m not wearing enough clothing. I wear UnderArmor tights, running shorts, a long-sleeved microfiber shirt, running gloves, and my new technical fleece hat. (This new hat is much, much warmer than the one I lost in Arkansas.) Also my long-run socks and the new pair of shoes. Running into the wind without an UnderArmor top, this ensemble is a little chilly. Some mud on the path at the lakefront, but heading north, the path is mostly clear. The south wind, at my back, makes this part of the run very easy. Belmont Harbor is still frozen over, which makes it a little like an air conditioner. Phases two through four after the jump.
Phase Two: Foster Avenue to the Water Fountain
Turning south is suddenly a bad idea. My pace seems to slow suddenly because of the wind, though I think my split times will belie this. One mile after turning south, at Mile 5, I stop for water and an energy gel (berry flavor). Ankle stiffness is gone now, and the wind, though cold, is at times refreshing. Between Addison and Belmont Avenues, though, I feel like my hands are going to freeze. But crossing back to the west of Lake Shore Drive, where the wind is less fierce, my hands warm up again. At the water fountain, I drink some Gatorade, and refill two bottles with water. There’s a woman there walking a giant dog who looks both sympathetic and hungry. There are also geese.
Phase Three: Water Fountain to Museum Campus
The path is quite muddy around and past the water fountain. Around Fullerton Avenue, I catch up to a woman who is running just fast enough for me not to be able to pass her. And of course, for multiple miles, she is running the exact route I am running, so I hope she doesn’t think I’m stalking her. Giant puddles and mud around the North Avenue Bridge, so that I cannot avoid soaking my feet and getting everything clotted with mud. Very windy and cold along the water from North Avenue south to Oak Street. The curve at Oak Street, as usual, is coated in ice and very uneven snow. But the path south from Oak Street to Navy Pier is clear. At Mile 10, along this stretch roughly at Chicago Avenue, I stop to drink water and take another gel (vanilla). The thermometer at Navy Pier reads 31 degrees. Crossing the Chicago River, I notice that it’s darker than I’d like it to be. On the straightaway from Monroe Street to Balbo Drive, I catch up to, but am unable to pass, a large man with long hair and a moustache. At one point, he turns around and gives me a thumbs-up. At the southernmost reach of this stretch, Balbo Drive, he stops, turns around, and puts up his hand to give me a high-five. As I pass him, high-fiving him, he yells, “Yeeeah!” loudly. I’ve never gotten so much enthusiasm on a winter long run. After Balbo Drive, heading into the Museum Campus, there’s a quick descent, so my pace picks up quite a bit. This is soon followed, though, by a relatively steep climb, which slows me down. However, I’m now at the turnaround point, and…
Phase Four: Museum Campus to Home
My turn-around is at approximately 12.75 miles. Looking at my watch, I realize that I’m on pace to hit 13.1 before two hours have passed. Thanks to that incline I mentioned earlier, and the speed with which I run down it, I pass the half-marathon point at 1:59:57. Headed back north now, it’s much warmer with the wind at my back. I think I’m beginning to look as though I’m suffering from an existential despair or something, because I’m at that point in the run where I get funny looks from other folks on the trail. Perhaps this is because I have salt crusted on my face, or because my form is starting to go, or because it’s starting to get darkish outside and I’m still underdressed. At Navy Pier, Mile 15, I stop again, more water, more gel (chocolate). It’s 28 degrees now by the thermometer. I keep headed home, stumble over the ice at the Oak Street curve, and have a newfound energy–a kind of second wind, but not as extreme because I hadn’t really ever hit the wall–when I resume running after getting through the ice. Where at this point I would normally take walking breaks, and maybe have some more fluids, I instead dig in and make it all the way to the Sheridan Road stop light (Mile 19) before stopping. While drinking my second bottle of Gatorade and waiting on the light to change, I’m greeted by a woman driving by in a car. ”What are you training for?” she asks. ”Little Rock Marathon, in a few weeks,” I reply. She says that she knew I was serious because of my water belt, and she asks what mile I’m at. When I tell her I’ve just finished 19 miles, she congratulates me and wishes me luck with my training. She drives off, the light changes, and I head home. The several stop lights between the lake and my house make for a nice cool-down mile, punctuated with a few breaks, and of course, the stares of various pedestrians.
No responses yet
