I participated in my first group long run. It went something like so:
The first 6 minutes was a little quick but manageable. At 12 minutes I looked at the watch and thought, "it's going to be a long day for the vols." But I got my shit together and decided it was just because I wasn't warmed up quite yet, and it would get easier. A few minutes later, a slight gap started to form. I held my cool, went to relaxed breathing, and went into my kicking state. I held a solid kick for approximately 3 minutes , at which I then looked at the watch. Bad news 23 minutes down, long run PR distance to go. At this point I decided to go rogue and flip it to continue solo. I do not know the area, but my lack of judgement, anger, and overconfidence in my directional sense prevented rational thought. I then sprinted until 27:26 minutes to clear my head. At that point I realized, I do not have a key to Jamie's car. I immediately stopped and screamed, "FUUUUUUUCK" as a result of my emotional state. Also a part of me was hoping it would someone from the group would have heard and come up with a plan to meet me at the car in another 18 minutes. I took 90seconds to calm myself to prevent full on emotional breakdown. At that point I preceded at angry run tempo pace until 42:30. I realized I was completely lost and completely lactic. There was a very minor incline that caused me to rig. I then walked for probably 200m while I got my bearings.
I forgot to mention. There was a trail race going on at the time, so hobby joggers are cheering me either because they are impressed at my emotionrun or because they are encouraging me to just keep going.
Anyways. At 47 minutes I reached the car. I tried to blend in with the racers to get the post snack Nom noms. I got caught and told off. They clearly did not understand my emotional distress.
I went to Jamie's car in hopes that it would be unlocked and the greenhouse effect would keep me warm. It was not. I searched for keys that may have been hidden around the tires. They were not. I esp-Ed Jamie and told her that she should come to the car immediately to let me in. She did not. I laid on top of the car to transfer the heat of the metal to my body. It was no match for the chill from my sweat. I had no choice. I started jogging. I jogged for 20 minutes. My legs were hurting and flushed with lactic acid. I couldn't go any longer. I ran back to the bathroom in hopes that it would provide shelter. The concrete was cold. I then stealthily stole the post race hot chocolate. It was gross and watery and luke warm. I went on a walk to hopefully keep warm and find my team. I ran into a lady with an extra sweatshirt. I gladly took it. Thank you over prepared race volunteer! I saw Lindsay in the distance, flagged her down, got
The key and hotboxed in the car and wrote this synopsis of my nightmare.
Anyways, luckily for all parties involved, I have obligations every Sunday indefinitely.