Eight days ago I ran a half marathon in Portland, Maine. Vick, magically, had enough time off that he was able to drive to Maine with me on Saturday. We loaded the car with both dogs, and the cats cheered as we pulled away from the house.
I have to say, I was a little apprehensive about taking both dogs on our first overnight road-trip. LuLu and I had made the cross-country trek in 2008, but she's the most brilliant, well-behaved terrier, chihuahua, Chinese-crested, Mexican-hairless, poodle-thing that anyone could ever ask for. George, the purebred cocker spaniel, on the other hand.... Well, let's just say, he may be one of the dullest crayons I've encountered. He definitely has his strengths. He's got stunning good looks, a happy go-lucky demeanor, the desire to cuddle everyone at every moment, and the ability to clean up dropped food before it hits the ground.
Unfortunately, our George often lacks control of his own bodily functions. We managed to make it through the weekend with only two accidents. The first was a car-sick George in the back of Vick's car. Poor baby. The second, and most endearingly, was when he jumped on my lap for cuddles and peed all over me. Cute.
Otherwise, the weekend went off without a hitch. We spent a lovely afternoon walking around Old Port with the puppies, then checked into the seedy hotel for some rest and relaxation. Vick, the best husband ever, let me chill out and shower while he scavenged for a big pasta dinner and cleaning supplies to fix George's accidents.
Bright and early the next morning, we headed over to University of Southern Maine for the start of the race. For everyone who has called me crazy, weird, or stupid for running: This is my favorite story of the weekend. In line for the porta-potty (yum), I met a woman who was running the full marathon. She was explaining to us that she was trying to run a marathon in every state. She had run the New Hampshire marathon the DAY before! And she said that she recognized a lot of people who had run with her the previous day as well. Runners are crazy, weird, and stupid- but she's a prime example of why I do not consider myself to be a runner. I rest for at least a week before I begin training again, let alone run another race. I am not that crazy, weird, or stupid.
The temperature was probably in the upper 40s or lower 50s. The sun was out though, and the course was beautiful. We trotted around a cove and over a bridge before entering some nice residential neighborhoods in Falmouth, Maine. Only two small hills to climb, in striking contrast to the treacherous New Hampshire half marathon I ran in August. Then we turned and headed back. All in all, a lovely run.
I finished in 2:20. My time was about a minute slower than my fastest so far. I was elated, though, to have finished relatively unscathed. I was tired, but able to drive myself out for ice cream after Vick left for work on Sunday evening. My quads and calves were only sore for three days. Unfortunately, my left calf seems to have been strained, as I'm still not able to run without an ice-pick sensation. Dr. Vick believes it will be all healed in 4-6 weeks. I'm thinking it will be all better by, um, tomorrow?
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